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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564136">The Year from Hell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomebodyIUsetoKnow/pseuds/SomebodyIUsetoKnow'>SomebodyIUsetoKnow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Series of Unfortunate Events [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arson, Bad Flirting, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Boys Kissing, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, But he goes about it the wrong way, Canon-Typical Violence, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, Damian Wayne Free Zone, Dick Grayson is Not Adopted, Flirting, Gags, Gun Violence, Handcuffs, Hostage Situations, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jim Gordon Knows, Kidnapping, Kissing, M/M, No Robin (DCU), Non-Sexual Bondage, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Shooting, Swearing, Tim Drake is Redwing, seriously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:07:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomebodyIUsetoKnow/pseuds/SomebodyIUsetoKnow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They say bad things happen in three. Someone, somewhere, seems to have forgotten that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson/Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Series of Unfortunate Events [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>444</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. “You were supposed to be at work!”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/16828171">You Weren't Supposed To Be Home</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrystie/pseuds/Chrystie">Chrystie</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate882/pseuds/kate882">kate882</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N: I'm not typically a fan of author notes, but I thought I might try explaining this one.  </p><p>I read the story “You weren’t supposed to be home” by Chrystie, kate882 and it tickled The Muse.  The Muse, however, ran away with it and what I thought was going to be a short little one-shot has turned into... well, this. And the companion piece.  Seriously, I don't know what's wrong with me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong> <em>Richard John Grayson</em> </strong> <em> did not get adopted by Bruce Wayne after the death of his parents. Wayne took an interest in the boy and prevented him from being swept away by the system. He was there for him, a legal advocate when the pre-teen’s immigration status was called into question. With the discovery that he was indeed an American citizen, having been born undocumented at the circus, Bruce helped to place Dick with a good foster home. He was fostered, but never adopted, by a new transfer to the GCPD, Maggie Sawyer, and lived a relatively simple life. He is, however, a world renowned Gymnastic having won several Olympic Gold and World Championship medals before he was 18. He joined the GCPD Academy right out of high school, completed his 2-year training period with several commendations, and has served in the GCPD as a Police Office III for four years.  He is 25 years old. </em></p>
<p><strong> <em>Jason Todd-Wayne</em> </strong> <em> was twelve when he was taken in by Batman after attempting to steal the tires from the Batmobile. Bruce intended to do as he did with Grayson, only for Todd’s rough edges to mesh with Bruce’s and the two almost seamlessly fit together after several loud clashes. Alfred convinced him to foster Jason himself, especially given that Jason was aware of his Batman identity, and Bruce agreed. Six months later, Jason became Nightwing (a name taken from a Kryptonian legend just to annoy Bruce) and joined Batman fighting crime. A year after that, Nightwing was kidnapped by the Joker and beaten with a tire iron. Left for dead, he was rescued by Batman only seconds before the bomb in the warehouse would have killed him. After months recovering, Nightwing became Red Hood to piss off the Joker and Jason was legally adopted by Bruce Wayne. He graduated high school and college with a business degree with honors and has been working beside Bruce at Wayne Industries for the past year. He is 22 years old.</em></p>
<p><strong> <em>Timothy Drake-Wayne</em> </strong> <em> was fostered by Bruce Wayne when he was fourteen years old after the death of both his parents. They were neighbours and old friends of the Waynes, and their will asked Bruce to watch over their son and business until Tim was old enough to take over the reigns of Drake Pharmaceuticals. Bruce does, and Redwing (an homage to the original Nightwing) joined Batman and Red Hood. A years later Bruce adopted Tim when the teen asked him to, after telling Bruce he was more of a father than his own dad had been. Feeling high school was a pointless necessity, he took his GED and with Bruce’s help became an emancipated minor at the age of sixteen. This gave him control of Drake Pharmaceuticals which he merged with Wayne Industries. He has been leading the Pharmaceutical department successfully for two years. He is 18 years old.</em></p>
<p><strong> <em>Barbara &amp; Jim Gordon</em> </strong> <em> were good friend to Jason and Bruce the first few years after Jason’s arrival. After Nightwing’s kidnapping, Barbara admitted to knowing the Big Bat secret and joined Batman as Batgirl while Jason was recovering. Even though she was 18 at the time, Bruce would only agree if Jim allowed it, and the trio surprise the man when they reveal the Big Bat Secret to him as well. Several years later, she was shot and paralyzed by the Joker and Jim kidnapped and tormented into near insanity. Upon rescue and recovery, Barbara become Oracle and Jim retired. She is 28 years old; Jim is 59 years old. </em></p>
<p>
  
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> <span class="u">1: “You were supposed to be at work!”</span> </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had been twenty-six hours since Dick had been back to his place, and he was running on fumes at this point. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. The only way he managed to climb the stairs of his condo building was the thought of a long hot shower in the new steam-shower he had installed last week and then falling into bed for the next twelve hours. </p>
<p>Though at the moment he was questioning why he had to get a corner suite on the top floor of a six-story condo complex with only a service elevator not for general us. By the time he reached his floor, his light jacket was held in his hand and the uniform shirt buttons were undone. The straps holding the bullet-proof vest against his torso had been loosened for comfort. He was just sliding his key into the deadbolt when his neighbour’s door opened.</p>
<p>“Good evening, Officer Grayson.” The middle-aged woman in a pair colourful scrubs greeted as she stepped into the hall, her own jacket draped in her arms and purse over one shoulder.</p>
<p>“Evening, Nurse Hennessey.” He grinned at her and held his door partially open. With a nod to the rainbow and cartoon unicorn pattern clothes she wore he asked, “Night shift on the pediatrics ward tonight, Sophie?”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t catch me dead in these things otherwise.” She chuckled with a smile of her own. “And what are you doing home so early, Dick? Thought you had the night shift this week too. I was going to text you later to bring me coffee from Ángelos’.”</p>
<p>“I do – or I did.” He leaned against the doorframe as she approached him. “But I got talked into a double when Brie’s son got sick this morning.  She took my shift tonight since her wife was due back from DC this afternoon. She’s paired up with John tonight, so text him and they’ll swing by.”</p>
<p>“Is Kevin okay?” She asked with a small frown of worry.  “He’s just getting over his last bout of pneumonia.”</p>
<p>“It’s a flu bug that has kept more than half of his daycare home this week. He had a fever this morning so they’re watching him. No other symptoms, she said.” He assured her. “They’re managing his asthma well; the new meds seem to actually be doing their job.</p>
<p>“Good.  I’ll call Carolyne later, see how they’re doing.” She glanced down at her watch and sighed. “I’d stop by now, check on the little tyke, but I’m going to be late if I do.”</p>
<p>“I could give you a ride over to the hospital, if you wanted to check on him.” He offered, silently bidding his shower good-bye.</p>
<p>“You look like you’re already dead on your feet.” She shook her head and patted his arm affectionately. “Go, get cleaned up and get some sleep.”</p>
<p>“That’s the plan, for at least the next twelve hours. John and I switch back to days this rotation, so I’ve got the next three days off.” He said and leaned down to give the older woman a quick peck on the cheek. “Have a good shift tonight, Sophie. Wake me up when you get home tomorrow, and I’ll buy you breakfast. You can catch me up on all the gossip around this place”</p>
<p>She laughed and nodded. “Sleep, Dick. I’ll see you in the morning.”</p>
<p>He watched the woman disappear behind the door to the stairwell and stepped into his dark condo with a smile, closing the door behind him.</p>
<p>He loved living here and had been lucky to have bought the place during the construction phase two years ago. It was centrally located between the 29<sup>th</sup> GCPD Precinct (his precinct), Station 12 of the GCFD, and St. Augustine’s Hospital, so most of the residents were first responders like himself. Several of his fellow officers had suites in the building with their families. Hell, his own partner had jumped at a condo on the second floor the minute it came up for sale. (John was moving in next month.) It was a secured building and in a good neighbourhood that was low on crime.</p>
<p>Which is why he was surprised to find himself suddenly staring down the barrel of a modified .44 magnum Desert Eagle handgun in his own home.</p>
<p>He reacted on instinct, knocking the weapon out of the man’s hand before he had a chance to fire and throwing his jacket into the intruder’s face. He stepped into the thug’s space, driving a solid punch into the man’s solar plexus.  He hadn’t been expecting the body armor beneath the leather jacket or the sweeping kick that forced him back if he didn’t want to get hit. The uniform jacket was torn from the intruder’s head as Dick moved back in to engage. He took note of the dark crimson mask the guy wore but filed it away for later as they start exchanging blows. </p>
<p> Dick’s condo had an open floor concept, which meant the fight took them from the entrance through the kitchen and into the living room without hindrance.  The guy was good. Well trained, skilled, and fast, and had Dick gritting his teeth with every strike he landed because the guy was not only bigger and stockier than him, but he was wearing armor on pretty much every part of his body. The guy was taking advantage of that fact and Dick knew he would be sporting some very vivid bruising if he survived… whatever this was.</p>
<p>“Will you all please just shut-the-fuck-up for a minute!?” The assailant suddenly snarled, his voice deep and husky, and Dick didn’t think he was talking to him.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, it was enough of a distraction that the guy was able to reach for a dark red motorcycle helmet that was on the sofa. With a vicious swing it slammed across Dick’s face.</p>
<p>Pain exploded in his mouth and nose and could feel the blood even as he was momentarily lifted from his feet.  His back collided with the glass top of his coffee table which thankfully didn’t shatter beneath him. It did knock the air from his lungs, however, and he laid there trying to draw in breath.</p>
<p>“Shit!” The masked thug angrily threw the helmet to the floor. “Fuck!” He hissed as he dragged Dick off the low table and to the floor with a thump. It hurt, but at least it kick-started his breathing and he inhaled with a ragged gasp. “Goddammit! You were supposed to be at work!” </p>
<p>The intruder quickly and efficiently removed his gun belt and tossed it aside, then immediately went for the spare piece Dick had strapped in his ankle holster.  His taser and baton were chucked across the room next. Fingers searched every pocket in his uniform and removed everything found before he was flipped onto his stomach and his hands pulled behind his back.</p>
<p>“Yes, I am well aware that I have just assaulted a goddamn cop!” The man was talking to himself again as he used Dick’s own cuffs to secure his hands in place at the small of his back. “What else what I suppose to do? He attacked me!”</p>
<p>“You had a gun in my face, asshole.” He spat a mouthful of blood onto his hardwood floor, turning his head to glare at the man when he stood over him. In the dim streetlight that filtered in through the window, Dick finally got a good look at the intruder.</p>
<p>He was taller than Dick, easily six-two or three; thick with muscles and black body armor and wore a black and red leather motorcycle jacket.  But it was the dark red mask and crest blazoned across the chest piece that had the anger rising up. There was no chance he wasn’t going to recognize a Bat now that he saw him.</p>
<p>“Okay, maybe not my best idea, but he surprised me!” The Red Hood vigilante snarked at whoever he was talking to. He rolled Dick onto his back and had to duck when Dick swung his leg up with hopes of kicking the other man in the head. “Damn, this guy is limber.” Red Hood moved to pin Dick’s legs to the ground and a minute later, despite his struggles, several heavy-duty cable-ties held his ankles together. </p>
<p>“Fuck you, Hood!”  Dick squirmed as he was grabbed with a strong grip beneath his armpits and dragged across the floor. He was pushed up in a sitting position against the cast-iron radiator a few feet away from the window and a couple more plastic ties were used to secure Dick’s upper arms to the vertical slats.</p>
<p>“No shit? He’s got how many gold medals?”</p>
<p>“Will you stop fucking ignori-” The gloved hand clapped over his mouth and it was then that Dick suddenly realized he couldn’t breath through his bloodied nose. His eyes went wide, and he thrashed in the restraints, frantic to move the hand that was now suffocating him.</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute, B.”</p>
<p>The vigilante pressed something on the collar of his jacket and finally turned his attention to his captive, only to swear when he recognized Dick’s distress.  The hand was dropped away from Dick’s mouth quickly with a muttered apology while he was once again panting for breath.</p>
<p>“Okay, look.” Red Hood wiped a weary down his face before crouching next to Dick. “There’s things happening at the restaurant a block over-”</p>
<p>“It’s called dinner service.” He griped, testing the cuffs and ties with a flex of his muscles. There was absolutely no give in them.</p>
<p>An amused grin quirked Red Hood’s mouth for an instant before his face fell neutral and he continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “-and this window of yours has the only clear view of the back entrance. It can’t be seen from the roof and the fire escape is too exposed. You were scheduled for the nightshift tonight, which worked perfectly for this op, so you should have never known I’d been here.”</p>
<p>“So, it’s my fault you break into my home, assault me, and tie me up?” Dick growled and leveled a withering glare at the other man. “Fuck you, asshole. HELP!”</p>
<p>His yell was cut off by the gloved hand that was again over his mouth and stifling his breathing.  He shook his head, yelling against the leather and making as much noise as he could before he passed out.  Red Hood had other ideas, and with a frustrated curse the Bat was suddenly tying a strip of fabric tightly between Dick’s lips.  The cloth muffled his shouts while still allowing him to breathe, and for the first time in two years he was cursing the extra sound proofing between the floors and suites that had been a big selling point for the building.</p>
<p>Resignation to the situation finally overcame him and his slumped defeated in the bindings.  He was panting around the gag, his chin resting on his chest, and closed his eyes.  His body was feeling every bruise that was already forming and his wrists throbbed from his struggles against the cuffs.  He startled when he felt a hand rest lightly on the back of his head and he jerked away from the touch.</p>
<p>“I’m really sorry, man.” Red Hood said genuinely.</p>
<p>Dick lifted his head, flicking his hair back with a toss of his head, and made no pretense of hiding the fact that he was observing every move Red Hood made. He let his fury show as he watched Red Hood moved back to the front door and lock it, engaging the security chain as well, before retrieving his weapon.  He holstered it and came back to the window, leaning against the frame and press the same spot on his jacket collar.</p>
<p>“Situation contained. Red Hood back in position. Going radio silent.” The man’s voice sounded fatigued, Dick would almost say remorseful, but he refused to feel anything but loathing for the vigilante.</p>
<p>He used to defend the Bats and others like them. Most of the costumed ‘Heroes’ did some real good and tried to stay within the laws.  But this? Red Hood had held a gun on him then beat him bloody and now kept him falsely imprisoned in his own home. It was so far outside the law that it didn’t matter to Dick what supposed crime they were trying to stop.  The end did not justify the means. As far as he was concerned, the Red Hood was no better than the rest of the thugs on the street.</p>
<p>Already exhausted from work, he felt his body practically going numb as the adrenalin left him.  He sighed, drew his knees up toward his chest, and shifted his body as much as he could to get somewhat comfortable. Not that it mattered. Even though he was tired he knew he wouldn’t sleep tied up and gagged as he was. He felt Red Hood glance at him on occasion but wouldn’t look at him again.</p>
<p>Near silence filled the condo. The ornamental clock Maggie had given him as a house warming present ticked away every second of the fucked-up situation he found himself in. His nose had finally stopped bleeding, though he still couldn’t breathe through his nostrils and he didn’t doubt that it was broken.  The splits inside his mouth from where the helmet had smashed his lips against his teeth had been pressed against the fabric of the gag, stemming the flow of blood. However, the cloth was thick with it and left a vile, coppery taste on his tongue.</p>
<p>The clock ticked for almost two hours before another sound was made.</p>
<p>“I’ve got movement.” Red Hood said without turning away from the window. He lifted a hand to his mask and pressed his finger against the side. “Red’s intel was spot on. It’s Two-Face’s goons. They’ve gone in. Heading to intercept, ETA 90 seconds.”</p>
<p>Red Hood pushed away from the window and Dick was unable to stop the way he flinched at the sudden movement. He groaned at the pain that flared through his bruised and stiff muscles and levelled one last glare at the Bat when he paused next to Dick. “O, when we’re clear of the scene send someone for Officer Grayson.”</p>
<p>The bloodied helmet was picked up from the floor on his way into Dick’s bedroom where he disappeared without looking back. Dick heard the window open, heavy boots on the fire-escape, and the window slide shut again. He was alone with the ticking again, though a few minutes later he could vaguely make out the sounds of gunfire and squealing tires in the distance. Sirens soon pierced the still of the night and thirty minutes after Red Hood had left there was an urgent pounding on his door.</p>
<p>“Grayson? Dick, you in there?”</p>
<p>Relief flooded through him, the niggling doubt that the Bats would have forgotten about him fleeing at his partner’s voice. He yelled John’s name around the gag, the sound muffled, and he was unsure if it would be heard beyond the heavy fire-door. John called out to him again, the door handle jiggling, and Dick responded as well as he could while he pounded his tied feet against the hard floor.</p>
<p>“Grayson!? Fuck! Dick hang on, we’re coming!”</p>
<p>It took another couple of seconds before he heard the loud pop of a shotgun and the breacher round destroyed the deadbolt. It took two kicks to the door to open it, the second needed when the security chair held momentarily in place. Officer John Blake was the first one through the opening, weapon in hand and the promise of murder in his brown eyes.</p>
<p>“Mother fucker!” He hissed when he saw Dick. He motioned for the other officers to spread out through the suite as he made a beeline for his partner. Brie Henry was a step behind him, her radio mike already lifted to her lips.</p>
<p>“Three-delta-eleven to dispatch: we are 10:13 and requesting an ambulance at 6-1-8, 1-3-4-3 Moldoff Avenue.”</p>
<p>
  <em>“10-4 three-delta-eleven; ambulance dispatched from St. Augustine’s, ETA four minutes.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Fucking hell, Dick!” John’s gun was back in its holster when he knelt beside Dick, fingers hooking beneath the fabric and pulling the gag from his mouth. “What happened!?”</p>
<p>He was panting now that he could breathe relatively unhindered, wincing as John was worriedly inspecting his bloodied face. “Came home to find goddamn Red Hood pointing a gun in my face.”</p>
<p>“A Bat did this!?” Brie spat, crouching down by his feet where she sliced through the plastic ties with her pocket knife. “What the fuck!? I thought they were the good guys!”</p>
<p>“So did I.” Dick snarled as John cut the ties holding his arms to the radiator.  He hissed at the pins and needles the return of circulation to his arms brought. Shifting his body forward, he twisted his torso to give John better access to the cuffs restraining him.</p>
<p>“Place is clear.” Two other officers came back into the living room, the anger at the treatment of one of their own evident on their face. “You okay, Grayson?”</p>
<p>Now free of the cuffs, Brie and John were helping him to his feet. Dick’s head spun with the raise in elevation, his vision graying out at the edges. “Yeah…” He gasped as the grey quickly turned to black. “Just… don’t freak… when I pass the fuck out…”</p>
<p>The black rushed over him, his knees buckled beneath him, and his ears rang with the shouts of his name as this body gave in to the exhaustion and battery.</p>
<p>Goddamn fucking Bats…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. "You don't get to be bait."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>2. "You don't get to be bait."</strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Damn, Grayson! Those pants should be illegal!”</em>
</p><p>His partner’s light laughs came through the earpiece he had hidden inside his ear canal. Dick didn’t bother hiding his amused smirk as he walked through the crowd, turning his head to follow the curves of the woman that just walked past him. Flicking his eyes up into the balcony over looking the bar area, he briefly met John’s eyes and winked.</p><p>He saw John shake his head and hide his lips by pretending to take a drink from the glass in his hand. <em>“Don’t wink at me, pretty boy. I’m immune to your wily charms.”</em></p><p>Dick wanted to chuckle but held it in check as he stepped up to the bar. He leaned against it, curving his hips just enough that the backside wrapped in too-tight denim would be accentuated to anyone looking.  By the choked sputter he heard from the man watching him from above, he knew he succeeded.</p><p>
  <em>“Goddamn, that ass!”</em>
</p><p>“Can I get a tall rye and coke, easy on the ice?” He yelled over the pounding music to one of the bartenders when he caught her eye.</p><p>She walked over to him, giving him a very unsubtle once-over, then smiled teasingly. “ID?”</p><p>He grinned, popping an eyebrow at her before he reached into his front pocket for the fake ID he was currently using.  He handed it over to her, the other two servers behind the bar looking at it over her shoulder then at him.  He’d had it happen before.  If they could remember him, he wouldn’t have to be IDed again the rest of the night. Though most clubs did it at the door, not the bar.</p><p>As she handed it back to him, he couldn’t prevent the sick feeling in his gut. He’d been to this club six times in the last two weeks and this was the first time she had asked him for his ID.</p><p><em>“Here we go.” </em>John had lost all teasing. <em>“Think we got them?”</em></p><p>From the look the three shared as they went back to work, he knew they had.</p><p>In the past eleven weeks six men had their homes invaded. The first two had been beaten into unconsciousness then robbed.  Another had been sexually assaulted before being rendered unconscious and robbed. Two more, raped and <em>tortured</em> and robbed.</p><p>But the last? </p><p>Nothing was stolen. The guy had been assaulted, tortured, and left for dead. Except he didn’t die, not right away.  He had crawled through his own apartment to the phone where he called 911.  He bled out before the ambulance arrived.</p><p>The first two robberies went, regrettably, uninvestigated.  This was Gotham City; if there wasn’t at least a half dozen homes broken into on a single day they counted it as a good day.</p><p>The third one, the first rape, was when the detectives started seeing a pattern.</p><p>The three victims shared similar traits: male, early to mid twenties, lived alone, around 6 feet tall, muscular physique, dark hair, honey-almond skin tone, blue eyes. When the fourth victim was brought in, he matched the profile and with his statement they began getting more on the suspects.</p><p>Plural.</p><p>The first two hadn’t been able to give a description, only that they were woken up by a hood thrown over their head before they were tied up and beaten.  The third victim was kept conscious longer.  Tied, blindfolded, gagged, but he was aware enough to remember at least two people. One held him down while the other raped him.</p><p>But the fourth, gave them the woman.  It was the same as the other assaults, restrained and blindfolded, but all three participated in the rape that time.  Two men, one woman.  She fucked herself on his cock while one sodomized him and the other forced a penis down his throat. They had used a pair of pliers to crush some of his teeth when he tried to bite the dick in his mouth, listening to him scream and choke on his own blood. The broke his bones, cut his skin, pulled off his fingernails, poured vinegar in the open wounds, before taking another round to sexually pleasure themselves at his expense.</p><p>The fifth gave them the club. The victim had laughed sardonically when he said it was the first time that he had used his real ID, having turned 21 only a few days before, and had celebrated at the club every night so far. Had finally moved out of his sister’s apartment, had only been in his own place for three weeks. And then he was tied up, raped, tortured, and would now be moving back to his parent’s place in Metropolis once he was released from the hospital.</p><p>“Weren’t you here last night?” The woman called to him across the bar while she slid his drink over to him.</p><p>“And the night before.” The younger of the two men called as he walked past with a couple of beers in hand.</p><p>It was true. He’d closed the club the past two nights and the weekend before he had been scoping the place out. He knew that physically he matched the other victims, but there was obviously more to it that just appearance that lured them in. After going back and talking to the other victims again they learned of the conversations had with the nice trio of bartenders at the club. And how concerned they were to keep them from drinking and driving that they took their keys from them.</p><p>Keys which had been used to gain entry and had yet to be found.</p><p>The first couple of nights Dick just sat at the bar, nursing a single drink while looking as morose as he could.  Then he purposefully stayed away for a couple of nights, John scoping out the inside while Dick and the detectives leading the case watched the club from the surveillance van down the street.  When Dick went back in two nights ago, he was playing up the partying.  Pretending to drink a lot and flirting with everything that walked on two legs.</p><p>“Girlfriend dumped me.” He replied loudly, taking a drink. It didn’t taste tampered with, that wasn’t part of their M.O.; they liked their victims aware.  “Bitch moved the last of her stuff out the other day so I’m celebrating!” He lifted the glass in a mock toast and downed it one go.</p><p>He saw the two men share a look over the woman’s head and he waved the empty glass at her. “Can I get another?” She nodded and he turned his back to the bar, leaning against it as if perusing the near two-hundred patrons of the club.</p><p><em>“You’ve definitely piqued their interest.”</em> John spoke quietly in his ear. <em>“The three of them are having quite the heated discussion behind you.”</em></p><p>Dick didn’t answer, not that John expected him to.  A minute later he smiled over his shoulder at the woman when she touched his arm to get his attention. She slid his drink onto the bar, and her smile was warm and friendly. It turned Dick’s stomach. “Go have some fun, Richard. We’ll start a tab for you, and you can pay up before you head out.”</p><p>“Thanks!” He saluted her with his drink before stepping away from the bar.</p><p>He spent the next four hours dancing and misplacing his many drinks. Each time he went back to the bar for another he played easily at being a little tipsy and free giving with the answers to their questions. Celebrating his newfound bachelorhood with friends? No, just him. What about the chick in the black thigh highs, she’s been eyeing you all night? Nah, just here for some dancing and drinks. What about the dude she’s with? Maybe, but not tonight I’m too drunk.</p><p>By the time the trio called last call Dick’s head was killing him, and he was still completely sober. He made his way over to the bar, cash in hand to close out the tab.</p><p>“Looked like you had a good time tonight.” One of the guys said with a laugh as he met Dick at the cash register. “You ain’t driving home, are you?”</p><p>“Car’s in the lot.” He said with a goofy smile and slight stagger in his step, pulling out his keys from his pocket. The car had registration and insurance for Richard Emory, his alias, and had the same phony address to a real apartment that he’d been staying in the last few nights.  “S’not far to m’place.”</p><p>“No way, Richard.” The guy leaned across the bar with a concerned look and snagged the keys from his hand. “You’re going to let me call you a cab, which Pete is going to help you get in to, and you can come back for these in the morning. You can clear your tab then.”</p><p>“He wasn’t trying to drive, was he?” the woman asked as she joined them.  The club was rapidly emptying and only a few die-hards were sticking it out to the very end. She glanced over at the last man of their team. “Pete, Richard’s going to need a hand out to the cab stand.”</p><p>“I got him, Stace.” Pete nodded, lifted a section of the bar, and stepped out from behind.  He joined Dick and put a strong arm around his waist, easily taking all the weight that Dick had leaned into him with. “Come on, Richard, let’s get you home in one piece, yeah?”</p><p>Dick allowed himself to be taken outside, the late-night air chilling him and he faked a shiver against Pete’s side. Pete chuckled, holding Dick with one arm while he raised the other and waved a cab over from the bank of taxi’s waiting across the parking lot. “Almost there, dude.”</p><p><em>“Shit. Another driver got ahead of me.”</em> John grumbled from where Dick knew he was parked in one of the waiting vehicles. <em>“Just take it back to the apartment. The detectives will be set up outside and I’ll head over there as soon as Pete goes back inside.”</em></p><p>“Where is he heading?” The deep voice of the driver asked as Pete opened the door and Dick flopped inside.</p><p>“Four-thirteen Avery Place.”</p><p>“It’s extra if he hurls on the upholstery.” The man said and Dick watched through his half-closed eyelids as he flicked the meter on.</p><p>“Let us know if he does and we’ll pay for the cleaning.” Pete said before clapping a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “We’ll see you later, all right Richard?”</p><p>“Thanks, Pete. Petey. Peter-eeny.” He snorted and patted the man’s hand, slurring his speech even more as he feigned weariness. “Still gotta pay’a.”</p><p>Pete chuckled again. “In the morning, Richard.” He closed the door and with a slap to the roof, the driver pulled out of the lot and away from the club.</p><p>Dick felt dirty.</p><p>He knew what those people had done, they all knew, but they had no evidence. No proof that the three were anything more than the friendly, considerate bartenders keeping an eye on their regulars.  Dick had smiled and laughed with them, had thanked them.  And he still wasn’t done with them.  He had to play the part, play the half-drunk would-be victim until the detectives came in and caught them red handed. God this was going to suck.</p><p>“You’re surprisingly good at being fake drunk. I almost believed it there until the end. ‘Peter-eeny’ my ass.” The driver’s suddenly deeper and familiar voice sounded amused. Dick snapped his eyes open and glanced at the back of the man’s head. When he looked up into the rear view mirror his blood began to boil at the sight of the dark red mask.</p><p>“Stop the car!” Dick growled and reached for the door, only to have the locks click into place before he could grab the handle. “John?” He called into the mike in the lapel of his shirt. “John!” There was no answer from the earpiece, and he swore when he saw a gloved hand lift up a jamming device.</p><p>“We need to talk.” Red Hood spoke casually as he drove.</p><p>“We’ve got nothing to say to each other, asswipe.” Dick looked out the window at the nearly empty streets. They were just driving past Harlow Park, the opposite direction of his fake apartment. “You do realize this is kidnapping, don’t you Hood?”</p><p>The vigilante just snorted and turned another corner. “You’ve already got a warrant for my arrest on charges of breaking and entering, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, and unlawful confinement. What’s a little kidnapping after all that?”</p><p>“How about twenty to life!” Rearing back, Disk slammed his fist into the plexiglass between the front and back seats. “You goddamn bastard, stop the car!”</p><p>Red Hood reached back and tapped his knuckles on the partition. “Bullet proof, I’m afraid. Like I said, we need to talk. So, if you want me to stop, I suggest you look in the money tray.”</p><p>Shaking out the tingling in his hand he pulled the small tray in the middle of the divider open. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” He snarled as he looked down at the pair of handcuffs inside the compartment. “You need these to talk?”</p><p>“Well, you’re behaving quite aggressively toward my person and I fear for my safety.” Even though Dick couldn’t see it, he could hear the smirk in the other man’s voice. “Snap them on, behind your back if you will Officer Grayson. Face out the rear window so I can watch you do it.”</p><p>“Go to hell, Hood!”</p><p>The cab suddenly stopped with a squeal of braked on the asphalt. Dick went flying into the partition, his head stinging as his forehead connected painfully.  A second later, he was being tossed back into his seat as the vehicle quickly sped up again. </p><p>“Son of a bitch!” He hissed, holding his hand against the lump that was beginning to form. “Breaking my nose and knocking loose three teeth wasn’t good enough, you’re trying to crack my skull now too?”</p><p>“I’ve never wanted to hurt you, Grayson.” Hood said quietly after a minute of strained silence between them. “I’d try and explain, give you a dozen excused from that night, but the fact of the matter is I never meant to hurt you.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, you’re an asshole.” Dick sighed, his head pounding in time with his racing pulse.</p><p>“I have been told thusly on numerous occasions.” Red hood laughed lightly.</p><p>With a sigh of resignation, Dick lifted his head and glared at the mask in the rear-view mirror. “If I put on the goddamn cuffs will you leave me the fuck alone?”</p><p>He wasn’t surprised when there was no answer.</p><p>As he muttered a string of Romani curses – describing in great detail what the other man could do with a cheese grater and his genitalia – he picked up the cuffs and twisted in his seat so Red Hood could watch as he followed the instructions. The cuffs were locked around his wrists, not so tight as to cut off circulation but tight enough that it should satisfy his kidnapper. Turning back around he slumped into the back seat.</p><p>Red Hood drove for a few minutes more before bringing the taxi to a stop in an overgrown lot.  Dick looked around and there were no other people but there were a few seemingly abandoned vehicles. The cab was parked in a dark corner next to a small, older, dark green, two-door coupe, with no license plates that he could see.</p><p>  “What was that language you were speaking?” Red Hood asked as he threw the vehicle into park and turned off the engine. </p><p>“I’m Roma.” He answered absently, watching the man gather a few items from beside him. “So, what’s the game plan this time? Why kidnap me?”</p><p>The Bat didn’t answer right away, exiting the front and opening the back door and taking a few cautious steps back. “Out.”</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Dick shuffled his body across the seat and planted his feet on the pavement.  He leveraged himself out and his arm was grabbed in a tight grip before he could think of making a move against his assailant. “Are you going to answer me, or just commit another couple of felonies to add to the growing list of charges I’ll be pressing against you for this?”</p><p>He could see the muscles in Red Hood’s jaw clench as he stared at the car next to them. “You don’t get to be bait.” The vigilante snapped as he opened the trunk.</p><p>That was not the answer Dick was expecting.</p><p>Yanking his arm out of the man’s hold he stared at Red Hood incredulously. “Wait, what?”</p><p>Red Hood frowned and shook his head. “You only have half the story. There are more than the bartenders, a lot more. Those three are just the scouts; they find the marks and send whoever’s paid for the night’s entertainment. Your little sting operation wouldn’t be enough to bring them all in. And if you are at that apartment tonight when they get there, they will hurt you and probably kill you before your backup could get to you. I’m not about to allow that to happen.”</p><p>“Allow?” Dick gaped at Red Hood angrily. “Just who the hell do you think you are!? You don’t get a say in anything I do, you sanctimonious asshole!”</p><p>The man’s dark hair fell across his forehead as he surged forward and grabbed onto Dick’s arms. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve just kidnapped you! I am saving your goddamn life so shut the fuck up and get in the fucking trunk!”</p><p>“You’re insane!” Dick sneered as he was manhandled over to the open trunk.</p><p>“Most likely!” With a light shove, Red Hood had Dick unbalanced and was able to get him tucked away into the trunk with minimal fight. It was a tight fight and he didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver. A heavy combat booted foot was placed on Dick’s chest, keeping him in place as Red Hood pulled out a cell phone and dialed. When the call didn’t connect, he hung up and tried again.  Dick watched him do that two more times before the call went through. He flicked it over to speaker just as a voice answered.</p><p>
  <em>“What!?”</em>
</p><p>“John!” Dick easily recognized his partner’s voice</p><p>
  <em>“Shit, Grayson! Where the hell are you!? We lost your radio signal fifteen minutes ago.”</em>
</p><p>“Well, Officer Blake, it seems as if your partner has been abducted.” Red Hood sounded way too please with himself as he leered down at Dick. “He’s a little tied up and in the trunk of my car currently.”</p><p>“Go fuck yourself, Hood.” Dick growled and tried to push up against the foot holding him in place to no avail.</p><p>
  <em>“Hood? Red Hood!? Son of a bitch, you Bats have lost your minds! You’re kidnapping cops now, asshole?”</em>
</p><p>“Just this one.” The vigilante shrugged, not caring that John couldn’t see him. “Here’s the deal, Officer Blake. You guys can have whoever shows up at that apartment tonight, but me and mine are going after the rest. Officer Grayson will fill you in later when you pick him up.  In the meantime, he’s going to stay right where he is, and everyone gets to go home safe and sound. Well, not the bad guys.”</p><p>
  <em>“Let him go, fucktard! I swear to god, I will-”</em>
</p><p> “Wow, he’s wound tight.” Red Hood disconnected the call and dropped the cell onto to floor of the trunk next to Dick. “So, I remember you are pretty limber. I read you’ve got like, twenty gold Olympic and World class medals in gymnastics, which seriously that’s impressive. It’s a little snug in there, but eventually you should be able to get your hands on the smartphone.  It’s not locked, you can call your partner when you get it. Watch your head.”</p><p>Hood removed his foot from Dick’s chest and slammed the trunk closed before Dick could think to move. “Let me out, asshole!” He shouted, though it went unsurprisingly unanswered.</p><p>A few seconds later the engine started up and the car started moving. As did Dick. Twisting and turning his body as much as he possibly could try and get his shackled hands out from behind his back. He had left enough give in the cuffs that a quick pop of his thumb would have one ring slipping right off his wrist, but the potential for nerve damage from dislocating the digit was something he would only risk if he had no other choice.</p><p>“There are files in the backseat for you.” Red Hood’s voice yelled through the car, audible even inside the trunk. “It’ll give you everything Batman has on this gang.  It started in New York City and is spreading south. They’ve got dozens of these ‘clubs’ on the eastern seaboard. They’ve gone unnoticed for so long because the other ‘clubs’ don’t have just one type; they are equal opportunity predators. The Gotham club screwed up. Stacey Everett, the female bartender, is a sociopath. She has a specific victimology and the rest play along. It’s the break Batman has been looking for.”</p><p>Goddamn that’s a terrifying thought if it’s true. And despite everything, Dick doesn’t think Red Hood would lie about something like this. “And Batman’s okay with you kidnapping me instead of just talking to me and convincing me to back out of the op?”</p><p>“Oh, Batman has no clue what I’m doing.” The man admitted with a laugh. “And really, after what happened the first time we met, would you have given me the time of day let alone listen to anything I had to say about one of your cases?”</p><p>He stubbornly stayed silent because the jackass was right. He wouldn’t have listened.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ah well, even if you’re listening to me now it too late. As you’ve already pointed out, this is kidnapping. In for a penny and all that.”</p><p>The car was driven around for a few more minutes before it came to a stop and the engine turned off. The front door opened and closed a few seconds later, the beep of the security system being set sounding and echoing around wherever they were.</p><p>“I suggest you don’t yell too much around here.” Hoods voice filtered into the dark of the trunk. “It’s not a really bad part of town, but you never know these days. I’ll check before daybreak and let you out if they haven’t picked you up by then.”</p><p>“You’re leaving me here!?” He called out unable to keep the fragment of fear from bleeding into his voice. “It’s November, for christsake! I’ll freeze to death.”</p><p>“The car’s in a paid, underground parking lot.” The other man tried to reassure him. “It’s heated too, so you’re not going to freeze. When Blake shows up, the key to the trunk is beneath the back-tire rim. No need to damage the car; it’s stolen and I’m sure the owner would like it back.  See you around, Officer.”</p><p>“Hood!” He yelled when he heard the booted footstep walk away. “Hood! Goddamn it!”</p><p>He did end up having to dislocate the thumb on his left hand to slip the cuffs. Ignoring the pain, he used his right hand to feel around for the cell phone.  He found it after a few seconds and nearly blinded himself when the screen turned on. John answered the phone before the second ring finished.</p><p>
  <em>“Where is he, you goddamn son of a bitch!?”</em>
</p><p>“If you mean Red Hood, he’s gone.” Dick grumbled with a sigh. “If you mean me, I’m still in the fucking trunk.”</p><p>
  <em>“Goddamn, can you get out?”</em>
</p><p>“It’s an old model, no emergency release lever.”</p><p> <em>“All right, we’ll start getting a trace on the call. Did that bastard hurt you again?”</em></p><p>Dick couldn’t help but smile at the concern in his partner’s voice. “Just my pride. And my thumb. Had to dislocated it to get out of the cuffs.”</p><p>
  <em>“…I’m going to kill that asshole.”</em>
</p><p>“Get in line. Goddamn fucking bats…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The companion piece to this is posted as the next work in the series. Each chapter here will have a corresponding chapter there.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. At Least it Wasn't Me, This Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things always get worse before they get better.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">3. At least it wasn’t me, this time.</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“You’re running late this morning, Officer.”</p>
<p>Dick looked up from his cell phone and smiled at the other man coming down the couple of steps outside of Ángelos’ Coffee Imperium. The six-foot-two man was carrying a cardboard tray with three large take-out cups in one hand and a bag of pastries in the other. A leather jacket was zipped up against the late January cold and a reflective pair of sunglasses was being pushed up into dark hair that was tinted auburn by the sunlight.  Sea-green eyes watched him approach with near twinkling mirth.</p>
<p>“And out of uniform too? Are we playing hooky today, Officer Grayson?”</p>
<p>“Have to get switched over to night shift, so it’s a day off, actually.” With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Dick closed the distance between them. “Shouldn’t you be in the office, Mr. Todd?”</p>
<p>“Probably.” The man agreed with a warm smile. “But lucky me, the powers-that-be have gotten use to their morning caramel macchiatos and triple espressos. Though I may or may not have taken a few minutes extra this morning waiting to see if you were going to show. And what do you know? Here you are.”</p>
<p>Dick was grateful for the chilled air that had already coloured his cheeks, otherwise he may have been embarrassed by the blush the other man always seemed to be able to draw from him.</p>
<p>Jason Todd was, to put it mildly, strikingly perfect.</p>
<p>They had met while waiting in line at Ángelos’ just before Christmas.  Dick had been on his way to the station and had stopped for his morning coffee, and Jason had been in line in front of him.  The man had picked up his numerous coffee orders and turned too quickly. The ice-coffee balanced precariously on top of the stack went flying and a splash of cold liquid spilled out onto Dick’s pants and shoes.</p>
<p>That had led to questioning a person’s sanity if they ordered an iced beverage in the middle of December. It was quickly defended with a claim that it was for one of the girls in the office. Dick had then suggested an assistant the next time, to which the man had admitted to being said assistant. They had shared a laugh, and Dick thought nothing else about the encounter until he met the man again the next morning.</p>
<p>And the next, and the one after that. Practically every weekday morning for the past month Jason was there making the coffee run for the office he worked in.  And then the man had to go and admit that he was now volunteering to make the trip during his morning commute across the city just to stop in at Ángelos’ on the off chance he got to see Dick again.</p>
<p>It quickly became a routine, one Dick looked forward to every morning to the point where he was actively coming down to the coffee shop even on his days off.</p>
<p>Like today.</p>
<p>“Looks like you have a light load this morning.” Dick commented with a gesture to move away from the traffic entering and exiting the store.</p>
<p>“Just me and the head honchos today.” He motioned to a town car that was idling across the street with two indistinguishable shadows behind the tinted back windows. “Their regular driver is out of town this week so I’m stuck playing chauffeur. They have a big meeting in the Diamond District in half an hour.” He glanced at his watch and grimaced. “Fifteen minutes, now. I may have taken a bit too long. I’ve got to go!”</p>
<p>Dick laughed lightly. “Good luck with your meeting.”</p>
<p>Jason gave a little wave good-bye with the pastry bag and took a few steps before turning back abruptly. “Hey, if you’re switching over to nights, that means you’ll be trying to stay up all night tonight, right? Maybe I can help you get turned around. Dinner, at that Thai place just down street? Say, seven?”</p>
<p>Dick stared at the other man for a moment before smiling softly. “Are you asking me out, Mr. Todd?”</p>
<p>The other man returned the smile, albeit somewhat hesitantly. “And if I were, Officer Grayson?”</p>
<p>“Then I’d say you’ve got yourself a date.”</p>
<p>They quickly exchanged numbers, Dick questioning why he hadn’t asked for it before, and parted ways.  Jason carefully made his was across the street to the waiting car while Dick went inside Ángelos’.</p>
<p>The air was warm, and he tugged at the scarf around his neck to loosen it. It wasn’t that much later in the morning than he usually came, but even those few extra minutes had cleared the storefront of those heading for work. There were three other patrons, two teens likely ditching school were sitting a table near the door and a middle-aged man was sitting with a laptop open at the bar in front of the large window. Dick was able to walk directly up to the counter and the family of three that were waiting with bright smiles.</p>
<p>“Good morning, Gina. Καλημέρα κύριε και κυρία Άγγελος.” Dick greeted the young woman and her parents, the Greek rolling off his tongue as easily as it had as a child. (Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Ángelos’.)</p>
<p>“Γεια σου, Λειτουργός Grayson.” The family patriarch returned warmly before switching to lightly accented English. “And will you ever call me Dimitris, Richard?” (Hello, Officer Grayson.)</p>
<p>“When you and your lovely wife start calling me Dick.” His answer with an amused chuckle.</p>
<p>“But Richard is such a strong, handsome name.” Elena Ángelos’ hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as she pressed espresso grounds into the small porta-filter. “And ‘Dick’ is… well…”</p>
<p>“A dick.” Gina chimed in with an obvious glance down at his crotch. “And such a fine one at that.”</p>
<p>“Gina! Go, clean something.” Elena scolded the nineteen-year-old, though Dick was laughing at the pink tinting the older woman’s cheeks.  “I was going to say too old fashioned for someone from your generation.”</p>
<p>Dimitris was laughing heartily as he came to stand beside his wife. “Do you have a few minutes, Richard? Elena has a fresh batch of the Bougatsa you enjoyed the other day cooling in the back, if you have the time to wait this morning.”</p>
<p>“It so happens I have no where else to be.” Dick responded as he reached for his wallet. “I was hoping I could make use of your Wi-Fi for a bit this morning while Sophie has some renos being done in her place. Demolition is going on today and the noise is a little much.”</p>
<p>“Ah, yes!” Elena exclaimed softly from behind a thin cloud of steam. “She mentioned she and her husband were redoing their bathroom and having a steam shower installed after you raved over the one you had put in last year.”</p>
<p>“Put that away, young man!” Dimitris pointed to the bills he had in his hand. “Your money is no good here, as you well know!”</p>
<p>He laughed and tucked the bills into the partially filled tip jar. “You and your wife spoil me, Mr. Ángelos.”</p>
<p>“Ángelos’ policy is to refuse payment from all first responders and military personnel.” Gina said with a warm smile as she passed behind him to wipe a few of the tables. “It is the least we can do for your service to the community.”</p>
<p>“Now,” Elena poured the espresso into a waiting to-go cup and grinned at him knowingly. “Did I just see what I think I saw? Did he finally ask you out?”</p>
<p>“Maybe.” Dick admitted with a little shrug. “An extra shot this morning, please Elena.”</p>
<p>“You two are just too adorable for words.” Gina commented a few feet away. “It’s like some cliché meet-cute in a Hollywood Romcom. Guy spills drink on another guy then they dance around each other for weeks before falling madly in love and living happily every after.”</p>
<p>“So, which one of us is Meg Ryan?” He joined her when she laughed.</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s totally him!” Gina smirked as her mother added another shot into the takeout cup before snapping the lid on. “Tough on the outside but secretly a sweety on the inside; the young, classically beautiful office assistant who has day dreamed of drawing the attention of the ruggedly handsome and entirely too wholesome beat cop. I tell you, Dick: Hollywood!”</p>
<p>“You’re nuts, Gina.” He picked up the cup with a thank-you and made for a small table near the door. He was just about to pull out the chair when his attention was drawn to the SUV that had stopped in the middle of the road. His frown deepened when six men wearing the colours of the Street Demonz gang exited, only to morph into horror when they quickly spread out brandishing semi-automatic assault rifles. </p>
<p>“Get down!” He hollered and grabbed Gina around the waist. He took them to the floor an instant before the glass exploded in a shower of bullets. He felt a shard slice across his cheek and tucked the young woman beneath his body as several bullets passed over head. He heard one of the teens turn over the table to hide behind and saw him drag his companion with him. A quick glance around filled him with relief when he saw the middle-aged man ducked under his seat, seemingly uninjured.</p>
<p>Screams and a cacophony of weapons fire filled the street while he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.  He thumbed the emergency call button as he carefully moved Gina and himself back toward the counter where her parents were peaking anxiously around the corner. “Stay down.” He instructed them and gently pushed her into their trembling arms.</p>
<p>
  <em>“911 – what’s the nature of your emergency?”</em>
</p>
<p>He slid across the floor, ignoring the glass that cut into his legs, toward the shattered glass door where he could see what was happening out in the street. “This is Officer Dick Grayson, badge number 29-817. I have a code 10-51: six heavily armed heading north on the 42<sup>nd</sup> block of Murphy Avenue. Shot’s fired, multiple casualties. Requesting immediate QRT and Ambulances on standby. Notify Response Team of plain clothes officer on sight and engaging hostiles. Handing off communication to civilian bystander.”</p>
<p>Catching the eyes of a middle-aged man, he slid his phone across the floor toward him. Reaching to his ankle he lifted his pant leg and retrieved his off-duty piece. “Do not hang up, no matter what. Answer their questions as best as you can, and for god’s sake keep your head down!”</p>
<p>With slow, cautious movements, Dick stayed crouched as he exited through the broken glass panes of the door without opening the frame. His heart was racing, and he used a folding chalk board for cover. From his position he could make out three of the gunmen and took aim at the closest.  He couldn’t hesitate, not with the man still shooting as he walked, and applied gentle pressure to the trigger.</p>
<p>The .22 in Dick’s hand fired with a crack and the gunman staggered from the bullet to his chest, going down when the second shot impacted right next to the first. The shots were lost among the sounds on the street, but one of the other men saw his fellow hit the ground and drew the attention of the rest. Dick wasted no time in firing two more rounds, both catching the second gunman in the chest and sending him to the snow-covered street. </p>
<p>He was lining up the third gunman when a bullet chipped into the sidewalk behind him. He curled further down, attempting to make himself as small as possible, when the third gunman in front of him turned and took a shot. It went wide, and Dick took the chance to dive back into the coffee shop.</p>
<p>Fire tore into his thigh, just above his left knee, a heartbeat before he was through the broken door window.  Pain flared through the limb when he leaped to the side of the door, listening to the heavy footsteps that were rapidly approaching. He waited a few seconds longer before ducking around the doorframe, lifting his revolver, and burying two shots into the chest of the gunman that had given chase.</p>
<p>“DICK!”</p>
<p>Gina’s scream was the only warning he had before another gunman tackled him through the broken window just behind him. They crashed to the floor, bodies slamming into the table hiding the two terrified teens. Dick grunted in pain when the thug’s knee hit high on his abdomen, causing his diaphragm to spasm and expel the air from his lungs. The man’s weight was heavy on his legs and was trying to pin him down. With an instinctive twist of his wrist, he squeezed the trigger on his weapon and a bullet ripped into the assailant’s left arm.</p>
<p>“Go!” Dick gasped at the teens as he flipped their bodies to straddle the wounded man. “Into the back!”</p>
<p>The two hadn’t made a move before a spray of bullets snapped into the floor in front of them. “No body moves!”</p>
<p>A pair of hands grabbed Dick by the shoulders and violently yanked him away and onto the glass-littered floor. A thick leather boot kicked the gun from his hand and a rifle was aimed at his face. Blood pounded in his ears and he could hear the sirens close by now and growing even closer. Sobs and screams of pain filled the air and he forced himself to keep his eyes open. He fully expecting a bullet in the brain pan to silence everything and was determined to see it coming.</p>
<p>“Do not kill him!” Dimitris Ángelos suddenly yelled, surging to his feet from behind the counter. “He is a police officer!”</p>
<p>“All the more reason to kill the bastard.” The one of the ground next to him spat holding a hand to the bleeding wound in his shoulder.</p>
<p>The last gunman burst into the coffee shop amidst red and blue flashing lights, screeching tires, and wailing sirens that signalled the arrival of the GCPD outside. “We got company, end of the street!”</p>
<p>“Search him.” The one aiming the gun at Dick ordered.</p>
<p>“Just put a bullet between his eyes and let’s get out of here!” The wounded one snarled as the newcomer quickly went through Dick’s pocket.</p>
<p>“Fuck!” The leather billfold containing his badge was flipped open, the chrome plating glinting in the light.  The Demonz member dropped it as if it burned him, leaped to his feet, and aimed his weapon at Dick along side the other. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”</p>
<p>“Stop!” The middle-aged man said hurriedly, holding out the cell phone and displaying the still active call now on speaker. “They want to talk to you!”</p>
<p><em>“This is Lieutenant Gerard Hennelly with the GCPD Quick Response Team.” </em>The voice coming over the speaker was grim and dangerous, and Dick had never been happier to hear the Lieutenant’s voice. “<em>You have hurt a lot of people here today; do not make it worse for yourselves. Put your weapons on the ground and exit the building with your hands on top your heads.”</em></p>
<p>“I have a little piggy in front me. He’s bleeding; did you know that?” The first gunman shouldered his rifle and knelt next to Dick, his hand pressing down hard on the bullet lodged in his thigh. Dick tried to hold it in, but the scream of pain escaped when a finger plunged into the wound. “Maybe I should just put him out of his misery. What do you think, Lieutenant Gerry?”</p>
<p><em>“I think if you do, we won’t be putting you in cuffs today.”</em> Hennelly hissed with more venom that Dick had ever heard from him before. <em>“We’ll be putting you in a body bag.”</em></p>
<p>Outside the coffee shop Dick could hear the clap of running footsteps as the QR Team was getting into position on the street outside.</p>
<p>“I’m tempted to call your bluff.” The man withdrew his bloodied hand and grabbed the phone out of the terrified bystander’s grip. “We’ll talk again after you’ve cleaned up outside. All the noise is starting to irritate me.”</p>
<p>He thumbed the screen, terminating the call, and pocketed Dick's cell. Raising his weapon again, he aimed it at the remaining patrons. “Everyone into the back. Get me his gun.” He motioned to the uninjured accomplice and the man nodded.</p>
<p>The wounded gunman got to his feet while the other ushered the customers up off the floor and toward the counter where the Ángelos family huddled together. Dick watched as the man picked up his rifle with his blood-stained hand and sneered down at him. When he passed, he reared back and kicked Dick hard in the side twice before the lead goon stopped him with a look. In seconds, the hostages were escorted through the kitchen door and out of sight, the two Demonz going with them.</p>
<p>“Shit!” Dick hissed when the leader suddenly clenched a fist in his hair and started to drag him across the floor. His hands reached up and grabbed onto the man’s wrist to take the pressure off his scalp while he was moved through the swinging doors with the rest. Glass shards sliced into his lower back and legs and he could feel the blood running over his skin when he was pushed up against the still warm oven.</p>
<p>“You killed three of my boys, Piggy.” The man jeered in Dick’s ear as his arms were pulled above his head and felt the cool pinch of handcuffs encircle his wrists, the short chain between them threaded through the handle of the stove. “Today was their graduation; a little mayhem and larceny to celebrate their joining the ranks. And you had to spoil their party.”</p>
<p>“Do you expect me to apologize?” He sneered right back, jerking his hands against the restraints.</p>
<p>“Not at all.” Dick watched as the gangbanger held out his hand which was quickly filled with Dick’s gun.  He twisted the weapon as he inspected it, checking the number of rounds still in the magazine before aiming it at Dick. “I expect you to die.”</p>
<p>He pulled the trigger and one of the remaining slugs was fired into Dick’s left shoulder. He ground his teeth together around the cry of pain when the bullet lodging against the bone of the socket. The screams from Gina and her mother mixed with the braying laughter of the wounded gunman.</p>
<p>“Shoot him again, Emman!”</p>
<p>Tense silence filled the kitchen and Dick allowed his eyes to close for a moment as he fought to ignore the heat that was spreading through his damaged leg and shoulder. And the worry at the blood that was flowing a little to fast from the bullet holes in his body.</p>
<p>“Where does that door and those stairs lead?” Emman voice demanded in the heavy quiet.</p>
<p>“The door to the alley, the stairs to the apartment upstairs.” Dimitris answered shakily.</p>
<p>“Anyone live up there?”</p>
<p>“No, we use it mainly for storage.”</p>
<p>“Steel, check out upstairs.”</p>
<p>“Hey, Emman.” Footsteps moved around the kitchen and Dick found it took greater effort to open his eyes than he would have liked. The uninjured Demonz, Steel, disappeared up the stairwell while Dick watched the wounded man, with a bloodied towel now tied around his arm, walk over to the man seemingly in charge. He had a pleased grin playing on his face and held up a smart phone. A video of the beginning of the shooting was playing from the perspective of one of the gunmen. “Tank was live streaming. We’re trending!”</p>
<p>Emman scowled, watching as the gunman behind the camera shot at people on the street before the camera suddenly spun and a clear image of Dick could be seen aiming his weapon before the camera crackled and the image was lost. It was being looped, however, and the video began again.</p>
<p>“Ice cold, Piggy.” The man in charged rumbled. “Did you even hesitate before you pulled the trigger?”</p>
<p>“Did you?” Dick snapped back. His head was pounding, and he could feel the sweat on his body despite the chill he felt creeping over him.</p>
<p>“He wasn’t even twenty-one yet.” Emman told him with a glower. “Had a girl expecting his kid in a few months. A baby boy. Kid’s never going to know his daddy now, Piggy. You did that.”</p>
<p>Nausea churned in his gut and Dick desperately pushed the guilt aside. He would deal with it later. “No, this is all on you and the rest of your group of gang-bangers that thought it was a good idea to shoot up the street for kicks.”</p>
<p>“Maybe.” Emman shrugged, reaching into his pocket when Dick’s cell phone began to chime with an incoming call. He waved his injured gang mate back toward the others as he glanced at the screen. “Who’s Maggie? Girlfriend?”</p>
<p>“My boss.”</p>
<p>“Let’s see what ‘Maggie’ has to say then, shall we?” Emman thumbed the screen and accepted the call on speaker. “You have reached the life model decoy for This Little Piggy, please leave a message.”</p>
<p><em>“You really want to play this game, Vasquez?” </em>Even though he was twenty-five, Dick still felt a flood of relief at the sound of his foster-mother’s voice.</p>
<p>“I’m flattered you know who I am, <em>Maggie</em>.” Emman mocked, waving the gun around with his free hand. “But I’m running behind schedule today so let’s get to it, fair? What will you give me, so I don’t put another bullet into the Piggy at my feet?”</p>
<p><em>“What do you want? We can com-</em>”</p>
<p>The crack of the pistol sounded, and fire erupted in the bicep of Dick’s right arm. “Son of a bitch!” He hissed, thudding the back of his head against the oven as fire quickly spread through the muscle.  His head spun at the new pain and the spike in his heart rate. He let his chin droop to his chest and started mumbling under his breath. He had to make this believable... “Our father, who art in heaven…. tres pistoleiros, un cara arriba, dous abaixo, un ferido.…” (… three gunmen, one up, two down, one injured…)</p>
<p>“Don’t play with me, Maggie.” Emman taunted, all joviality vanishing from the man’s voice and face. “This gun has two more bullets in it, and he has another limb just begging to start bleeding from before I put the last one in between his eyes.”</p>
<p>“…sete reféns, un ferido …” (…seven hostages, one wounded…)</p>
<p><em>“Torturing my officer isn’t going to get you back on schedule.”</em> Dick could hear the anger seething beneath the steady lilt of her voice.</p>
<p>“… entrada posterior por un callejón cego.…” (…rear entrance through a blind alley…)</p>
<p>“Shut up!” Emman hissed, whipping the butt of the pistol across the side of Dick’s face. His head snapped to the side with the force of the blow and then the still warm barrel of the pistol was pushing beneath Dick’s chin and forced his head up to look at him. “Don’t believe for one second I think you’re praying, Piggy. Now, what were you saying? What did you tell her!?”</p>
<p>“He’s saying you’re a dead man.” </p>
<p>The modulated voice spoke at the same time several shots were fired from the stairwell. The gunman standing over the other hostages went ridged as the taser probes now against his chest sent electrical pulses through his body.  Dick’s eyes watered with the onslaught of powdered irritant that exploded from the pellets that broke against Emman’s chest.</p>
<p>Both officer and gangbanger started violently coughing at the PAVA from the pellets that entered their airways, which saved Dick’s life.  Emman’s finger had tightened over the trigger, but the barrel had shifted, and the bullet only grazed the side of his head. His ear was ringing painfully from the sound of the gun discharging right next to it and through the tears burning in his eyes he could see the black and crimson figure bear the gangster to the ground.</p>
<p>Coughs were still tearing out of his lungs a moment later when Emman went still and the figure was suddenly kneeling next to Dick.</p>
<p>“Fuck!” The electronic voice sounded from beneath the heavy red helmet and a gauntleted hand quickly held a half mask over Dick’s mouth and nose. A burst of clear oxygen was pushed into his lungs and he felt the irritation in his throat lessen and his coughing ease.</p>
<p>“That’s it, breathe Officer… Shit, you’re losing a lot of blood! You, I need your hands… good, now hold this in place. Don’t move it!”</p>
<p>It took a few seconds before Dick’s vision cleared and he could focus on the pair of shapes in front of him.  A teary-eyed Gina was there, holding the mask against his face while the Red Hood was unlocking the cuffs from his wrists. Dick grumbled.  “Goddamn…”</p>
<p> The altered laugh that came from hidden speakers was unnerving. “You’ve got a thing for handcuffs, Grayson? At least it wasn’t me, this time.”</p>
<p>Dick moaned with the pain as his arms were gently brought down and he was laid onto his side, his head guided into Gina’s lap for comfort. Dick was fighting to keep his eyes open “… asshole…”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess I am.” Dick was surprised by the kindness he could hear in the digitized voice, and the comforting hand that ran over his hair.</p>
<p>It was gone a second later when the vigilante picked up Dick’s phone from where it had fallen. Dick felt a small smile creep onto his lips when he realized he could hear Maggie shouting through the speaker.  “You still there, Commissioner?”</p>
<p>
  <em>“Who the fuck is this!?”</em>
</p>
<p>“Gunmen are taken care of.” Red Hood placed the bloody device into Dick’s palm and helped his fingers close around it. “Come get your boy, Sawyer. And bring the medics, he’s lost a lot of blood.”</p>
<p>Dick watched as the man seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before they could hear thunderous footsteps advancing on the other side of the door. Hood surged to his feet and disappeared up the stairs an instant before the QRT burst into the kitchen.</p>
<p>He was blacking out as the heavily geared officers spread out through the kitchen and up the stairs to the second floor. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Hood would be gone when they got up there, and he was shocked by how little that bothered him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The companion piece to this is posted as the next work in the series. Each chapter here will have a corresponding chapter there.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Don’t do this. Don’t you fucking do this!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">4. Don’t do this. Don’t you fucking do this!</span> </strong>
</p><p>It had been a long night, and it was just getting started.</p><p>Gotham was burning.</p><p>From the window masked behind the clock-face in the tower, Oracle could see the orange glows spread out throughout the city.  At least she was starting to see more plumes of white smoke from the fires that had been successfully extinguished. Still, there were four remaining black geysers of active fires that GFD and GCPD were fighting to contain.</p><p>Garfield Lynns was in rare form tonight.  The Firefly was keeping vigilantes and first responders on their toes and not for the first time she was cursing the Joker for making it so she couldn’t physically be there helping those she cared about.</p><p>“Batman, I’ve got reports coming in about a new fire; a few blocks north of the Forum of the 12 Caesars.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she monitored the half dozen screens in front of her.</p><p><em>“Threat level?”</em> The voice over the comm was rougher than usually. The amount of smoke their people were inhaling was going to cause problems the next few days.</p><p>“Low, no crews are being diverted.” Jim informed them from where he stood in front of another set of computers. “The area’s under development. Just a few construction sites and empty buildings. Nearest populated area is three blocks west.”</p><p><em>“Keep me posted.” </em>Batman signed off.</p><p>“Thanks, Dad.” She smiled warmly at the man, grateful for his company and assistance.  Despite her claims to the contrary, it was nice having another set of eyes and pair of hands when shit hit the fan like it had tonight.</p><p>The clocktower was filled with chatter as she monitored the police, fire, and ambulance radio frequencies.  She also had her computers filtering through the hundreds of 911 calls for any information they could use to find the psychotic pyromaniac.</p><p>They had been lucky so far tonight.  Even with all the chaos and inherent dangers of so many blazes, there had been no serious injuries or fatalities.  There would be tens if not hundreds of millions of dollars in damages, but Gotham was renowned for rebuilding after the destruction wrought by one supervillain or another.</p><p>Knock on wood, this was almost calm for one of the Rogues ventures into anarchy.</p><p><em>“Redwing to Oracle: Ladders 14 and 17 are calling it at Gotham University.” </em>Redwing’s voice was nearly as gruff as Batman’s when he reported in a few minutes later. <em>“We got everyone out, minor injuries and no fatalities, and the fire’s out.  They’re moving south on to Schnapp Avenue and wanting to know if I’m tagging along.”</em></p><p>“When was the last time you took a break, Red?” Oracle asked, quickly glancing at a screen displaying the vitals from the suits of her boys. “Your temperature’s a little high and I’m worried about your heart rate.  When did you last have a drink?”</p><p>He was chuckling across his mike. <em>“The paramedics on site  wouldn’t let me out of their rig until I finished an electrolyte bottle and took five to cool down with some oxygen. I’m all right, O. Promise.”</em></p><p>She smiled and nodded, even knowing the eighteen-year-old wouldn’t see her. “All right. Take your cycle in case I need to redirect you else where.  Things seem to be quieting down but you never know with Firefly.”</p><p>
  <em>“Copy that, O. Redwing out.”</em>
</p><p>“Follow your own advice, Miss O.” Her father had come up behind her, a chilled bottle of water from the mini fridge in the corner. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”</p><p>Accepting the bottle, she cracked the seal and took a sip. “Wishing the night would end and Lynns was back in custody. But otherwise, I’m good.”</p><p>“I think we’re all wishing that.” Jim confessed before moving back to his set of screens.</p><p>Barbara watched him as his forehead wrinkle before he grabbed the mouse and started scrolling back through the information that was filling up the screen. When he narrowed his eyes, she felt that the relative ease of the night was about to come to an end.</p><p><em>“Hey, Lady O, do you copy?” </em>Red Hood’s voice was the clearest of them tonight, but then his helmet did have a filter system already built it.</p><p>She spared her father a last glance before turning back to her own bank of screens and flicked her comm on. “Go ahead, Hood.”</p><p>“<em>One of my CIs reached out to me, gave me a lead on Lynns. Can you verify?”</em></p><p>“What have you got for me?”</p><p>
  <em>“My guy said that someone matching Lynns’ description has been hanging around an empty school in Coventry, about four blocks west of Schwartz Bypass. Chased away all the transients that had been camped out there a few days ago.”</em>
</p><p>“I’ll pull up the camera’s we have in the area and see what facial recognition can dig up.” She told him as her fingers set about doing just that. “Are you heading there now?”</p><p>
  <em>“I’m still across the Sprang, in the Bowery with the crews from Ladders 21, 25 and 37. The fire here has spread into an apartment complex. We got everyone out a while ago, but it’s still burning hot and looks like it may jump another building. We’re evacuating it now, but I should be clear in about ten.”</em>
</p><p>“I’ll let you know what I find.” She muted the microphone and let the computers work their magic. With a look at her father, she felt her stomach plummet when she saw the murderous scowl on his face.</p><p>“What is it, Dad?” She asked rolling her chair toward him.</p><p>He didn’t answer but reached for his mike and pressed the voice modulator before speaking. “This is Agent J to Dispatch: are you monitoring your patrol status checks?”</p><p>There was a momentary pause before the Police Dispatcher answer. <em>“I thought we’ve asked you Bats to stay off our frequencies, Agent J.”</em></p><p>“And I think we have better things to worry about tonight.” Jim snarled at the man on the other end. “Tell me you’ve been verifying your patrol check ins.”</p><p>
  <em>“Of course we have!”</em>
</p><p>“The you must have noticed that one of your shops has not checked in in the past three hours.”</p><p>Barbara’s heart plummeted and nearly a full minute passed before the dispatcher swore. <em>“Dispatch to three-delta-eleven, what is your 10-7?” </em> When there was no response, the man’s voice was even more tense. “<em>Dispatch to three-delta-eleven, do you copy?”</em> Again, there was no response and a series of clicks could be heard as the call suddenly went to all frequencies.</p><p>“<em>Dispatch to all units, be on the look out for police unit three-delta-eleven. Dispatch to all units, be on the look out for police unit three-delta-eleven; possible 10-13 for Officers John Blake and Richard Grayson. Last known location one hundred ninety-seven minutes ago at Knights Plaza, Ditmars Boulevard and 25<sup>th</sup> Avenue.”</em></p><p><em>“</em>Oh god!” Barbara breathed before quickly turning her chair around and went back to her computer. She ignored the sudden increase in Police chatter and accessed their camera network. Bringing up the cameras surrounding the Plaza, there were seven of them, she rewound their feed until she found what she was looking for. “Got them. The headed west on 25<sup>th</sup>, passing Curtis Street at the time of their last check in.”</p><p>“I thought Jay said Grayson still wasn’t on active duty.” She hadn’t realized her father had followed her over until he was standing beside her and bringing up more information on another screen.</p><p>“He wasn’t supposed to be.” Barbra confirmed while she accessed the city’s CCTV street cameras. “It’s only been five weeks since the shooting; he’s still undergoing PT for his shoulder.”</p><p>“Damn it!” Jim shook his head and pointed to the duty roster he had brought up. “When they called all hands at the start of all this, he came in.”</p><p>“Of course he did, the idiot!” Barbara snapped as she reviewed the city’s footage. “There, they passed the camera on the corner of 25<sup>th</sup> and Humphreys Street two minutes later.” She went through several more minutes of footage before she shook her head. “I lose them there.”</p><p>She reached for the mike on her collar only for her father to have beaten her to it. “Batman, do you copy?” She was grateful to see it was a closed communication, something only Batman would hear.</p><p>Several impossibly long seconds passed, her hands working for ways to find the missing officers, before the man answered. <em>“Go ahead, Agent J.”</em></p><p>“Two GCPD officers haven’t made their past three mandatory check ins.” The former commissioner brought him up to speed. “Their last known location, 25<sup>th</sup> and Humphreys, puts them within the vicinity of the latest fire.”</p><p>An alert came up on her screen and she opened it. “Goddamn it! Dad, contact GCPD and let them know where we last saw their officers then get them to send units and a fire truck over to the fire at 98<sup>th</sup> and 25<sup>th</sup>.”</p><p>Immediately she cut into the communication and opened it to the other two in the field. “Guys, I’ve got a match on Firefly. A picture from a security camera outside Gotham Pentecostal Assembly on 98<sup>th</sup> street taken this morning; he was heading south. There’s a fire burning at the former East Elmhurst Middle School, the corner of 25<sup>th</sup> and 98<sup>th</sup>. Three hours ago, two GCPD officers failed to make their required check in; their shop was last seen two blocks away on 25<sup>th</sup> at Humphreys. You need to get over there, now!”</p><p>
  <em>“This is Redwing, I’m en route from Upper West Side; ETA seven minutes.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Batman en route from Ottisburg, ETA eight minutes.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Red Hood en route from Bowery ETA five minutes.”</em>
</p><p>“Information has been relayed to GCFD and GCPF; they’ve got cars in the immediate area and a crew being rerouted from Dillon Avenue, ETA four minutes.” Jim notified them as he came to stand beside his daughter again.</p><p>“Hood,” Barbara began gently. “You need to know it’s Grayson and Blake.”</p><p>There was no response, but the GPS on Jason’s cycle suddenly sped up to near break-neck speeds as it tore out of the Bowery and across the central Sprang River bridge.</p><p>“<em>Four-echo-twenty-two to dispatch? We are 10-84 at 98<sup>th</sup> street and 25<sup>th</sup> Avenue. We have visual confirmation on location of three-delta-eleven, officers’ locations unknown. Requesting additional fire units and ambulance.  The back of building is engulfed in flames and it’s spreading fast.”</em></p><p>“Police are on scene,” Barbara relayed to the trio racing toward the fire. “Their cruiser is there, no sign of Grayson or Blake.”</p><p>
  <em>“10-4, four-echo-twenty-two; hold position and wait for fire units. ETA three minutes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Negative, Dispatch. Someone’s in there, we can hear them shouting.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Copy, that; proceed with caution, suspect may be on sight.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Oracle.” </em>Batman’s voice ground across the comm and in the background they could hear the squealing of tires. <em>“I’ve got a visual on Firefly in Burnley, heading north. Notify GCPD I’m in pursuit.”</em></p><p>“I got it.” Jim said quickly and heading back for his station.</p><p>Barbara nodded and watched the action from her screens.  While she could piece it all together from the information and camera feeds, it was nothing like being out there. And for the millionth time she allowed herself to feel the hate she had for the Joker for taking her legs from her.</p><p>*****</p><p>There were two other police units there by the time he pulled up to the inferno raging inside the three-story building. Gravel sprayed out from beneath his tires as he sped to a stop next to their vehicles.  Of the four officers he could see, one was nearest to the door with an emergency oxygen tank and one of the others had noticed him and was jogging over.</p><p>“I passed a couple engines on my way here.” Red Hood told the man as he got off his bike. “They’re less than two minutes out. What’s the situation here?”</p><p>“Nelson and Fogerty were first on scene.”  The man’s name plate read Pierson and Hood couldn’t tell if the grey in his hair was from age or soot. “They found three-delta-eleven’s shop but nothing on Blake or Grayson. Went inside maybe two minutes ago. Heat from the fire is playing havoc with our radios so we have no idea what’s going on inside.”</p><p>Partway down the building several windows exploded from the heat as the two joined the other officers watching the entrance. The doorway was still clear of flames, but the smoke billowing out was worrisome. Behind them they could hear the sirens of the approaching fire engines getting closer.</p><p>Jason was about to break away from the waiting officers and run into the building himself, but just as the first engine pulled onto the lot three figures tore out of the building. The man being held between the other two was weakly struggling, arms flung over the other officer’s shoulders and being practically carried out, and Jason could make out the handcuffs dangling from one of the man’s wrists.</p><p>“No!” Blake was covered in soot and ash, his face red from the heat and his hair plastered to his head with sweat. His voice was hoarse and thick with smoke, and still he fought and screamed as he was carried further from the flames that were now licking at the entrance.  “He’s still in there! Grayson’s still in there!”</p><p>Hood was next to him in a second, helping the officers guide the man to the ground.  There was blood dried on the side of his face, a gash on his temple tacky with blood and grime. “Do you know where inside he is?” He demanded of the man even as the officer with the oxygen placed the mask over Blake’s mouth and nose.</p><p>Pupils blown and uneven, a concussion no doubt, Blake pushed the mask aside so he could speak. “Lynns got the drop on me; I didn’t even see it coming.” He admitted around a series of violent coughs. “I came to as Dick was cuffing me to the railing in the central stairway on the second floor. Lynns had a gun on him – my gun!  Dick was hurt, bleeding… his shoulder’s still not right! He shouldn’t have been here! He shouldn’t-” Coughing stole the words from and suddenly a medic from the fire engine was there with more oxygen.</p><p>“Where did Lynns take him?” Hood took a step back, allowing the medic the room she needed.</p><p>With a ragged gasp, Blake moved the oxygen mask away again. “Up, to the third floor – I don’t know where!” The last was yelled as Jason was already moving.</p><p>“Red Hood, wait for the hose!” One of the firefighters screamed as he tore past the men rapidly setting up the hoses, but he didn’t pause.</p><p>Flames licked at his arms as he raced into the now burning entranceway, but he ignored the searing heat across his jacket as he made for the large set of stairs to his left.  He was taking them three at a time, using the hand rails to propel himself around the corners without loosing speed. The fire and heat lessened the further he went up, but the smoke was thick and black, and he would have been blind if not for the systems of his helmet.</p><p>“Grayson!” He bellowed, amplifying the volume of his speaker to the max once he reached the top of the stairs.  He went left, ducking his head into every doorway and closet as he went. “Grayson!”</p><p>In his haste he didn’t spare much time checking the doors before he opened them and was knocked back by the sudden backdraft of flames when he opened one midway down the hall. He hit the opposite wall hard and was only saved from serious burns by the fire-retardant nature of his uniform. He was smoking and he could feel the searing heat against his legs.</p><p>
  <em>“Redwing to Hood, I’m on site. What’s your location? Please tell me you weren’t anywhere near that gout of flame that just took out four windows on the third floor!?”</em>
</p><p>“Third floor,” he groaned as he pushed himself back to his feet, patting out the small flames that clung to his pants, and only spared a second the look into the burning classroom. “And that may have been my fault. Grayson’s not in here, thank god.” He moved on, the clock ticking down now that the flames were eating their way down the hall.</p><p>“Hood!” Over the crackling fire behind him, a voice called out to him and he spun around.  Two firefighters were standing at the top of the stairwell, air tanks on their backs and axes in hand.</p><p>“Check down those halls, I’ll finish looking down here!” They nodded and worked in tandem to check the closed doors before knocking them open with the head of an axe.</p><p>Jason watched them for a few seconds before continued down the hall. He had cleared two more rooms and had just looked into the third when he saw him through the thick smoke. “He’s here!” He shouted back for the firefighters even as he ran to the figure in far corner of the room.</p><p>Grayson’s eyes were closed, his face dirty and bruised and a dried streak of blood marred his chin from were his lip was split. The man’s uniform was singed and torn, the skin beneath blistered and red. He had slumped into the corner, his arms held in place around an exposed water pipe with a set of handcuffs. Blood oozed from beneath the steel rings too tight around his wrists, both thumbs broken at obviously painful angles, and the pipe near the floor was bent in such a way that told him that Dick had tried to kick his way free.</p><p>But now he wasn’t breathing.</p><p>“Shit!” He hissed, yanking on the pipe, and kicking it at the same spot. “SHIT!”</p><p>“Look out!” One of the firefighters was suddenly there and pulled Jason back from the unresponsive officer. It took two swings of the axe, but the pipe split a foot above the cuffs and between the two of them they were able move the man.</p><p>Before Jason could object, the firefighter was lifting Grayson across his shoulders and toward a window the second firefighter was already breaking the glass out of.  “Fire blocked the way back, and the lower side stairways are engulfed.” He was informed. “This is the only way out.”</p><p>“We can’t wait for the ladder,” His partner said grimly through the mask. “Grayson needs out now.”</p><p>“I’ll go first.” Jason said automatically, pushing past them and swinging one leg out the window. “I'm bigger than you both so, strip off what gear you can and I’ll try to catch you.”</p><p>“Be careful, it’ll still be at least a twenty-foot drop.” The one carrying Dick nodded in agreement and looked to his partner. “Simon, you’re after Red, then Grayson. I’ll come last. Paramedics are on their way around to this side of the building.”</p><p>Simon was already shucking the oxygen tank from his back and had dropped his axe by the time Jason had planted both feet on the outside of the building and held onto the window ledge with his hands. He glanced down, lowering his body as far as he could while still hanging on, then gave a little push with his feet when he let go. </p><p>The descent was quick, closer to twenty-five feet before the balls of his feet hit the ground. He instantly bent his knees and tucked his body back into a roll to bleed off the momentum. He felt something give in his ankle but ignored is as he hit the quick release of his helmet and tossed it aside. “Go!” He called up to the firefighter that had mirrored his position outside the window.</p><p>A second later, the body of the man was colliding with his and he let the force take them to the ground. Simon’s heavy coat had provided them both with a little padding, but Simon’s face wore a grimace of pain when the stopped. </p><p>“You good?” Red Hood asked as they got to their feet.</p><p>“Glass tore through the gloves.” He admitted, but still moved into position beneath the window alongside Hood.  “You’ll need to start CPR as soon as we get him down.”</p><p>Jason felt ill with the thought, but he nodded as the two created a basket with their arms.  He looked up to where the firefighter had his arms looped around Grayson’s chest and was holding him outside the window. “Let him go!” Simon called up to his partner.</p><p>Grayson’s dead weight nearly broke through their clasped arms, but they held him even as they tumbled to the scorched grass. “Get him clear!” Simon got back to his feet and into place beneath the window. “I’ve got Toby.”</p><p>With a succinct nod, Jason gripped Dick’s body beneath the arms and drag him a good fifty feet from the burning building.  Once he was laid out as flat as he could be on his back, his cuffed hands resting on his abdomen, Jason tore off his gauntlets and pressed his fingers against the side of Dick’s neck.</p><p>“No pulse!” He told the pair of firefighters as they joined him, Simon propping Toby up who was limping on a now obviously broken leg. Jason raised himself onto his knees, clasped his hands together and placed them onto the center of Dick’s chest.  “Starting compressions.”</p><p>Only a few seconds had passed before a medic was suddenly sliding onto her knees and into place on the other side of Dick’s body. “Keep going!” She snapped, quickly removing a medical duffle from her shoulder, and retrieving a resuscitator and mask.  She expertly secured the mask into place over Grayson’s mouth and nose and attached the bag to the tubing. She began squeezing the bag in a slow and steady rhythm.</p><p>Dozens of footsteps pounded behind him, but Jason couldn’t look away from the face of the man beneath him.  “Come on…”</p><p>A second EMT was suddenly kneeling next to the first, unpacking an AED as soon as he hit the ground. “Do not stop until I tell you to.”  The man instructed Hood. “Someone get those cuffs off him!”</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye he saw a pair of scissors slice through the fabric of Dick’s uniform to the side of Jason’s fists. One of the officers from before was there, using his key to quickly unlock the handcuffs and remove them. Red Hood was aware of Redwing standing with the crowd of officer a few feet away and tried not to wince when he felt one of the ribs beneath his hand suddenly snap. “Shit!”</p><p>“Means you’re doing it right.” The woman told him as her partner placed the AED pads on Dick’s now exposed torso.</p><p>“I know.” He grunted with the effort. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”</p><p>“Hold compressions, stand clear.”</p><p>Jason stopped and leaned back from Dick’s body. The computerized vice from the AED confirmed analyzing for a few seconds before it spoke again. <em>“Shock advised.”</em></p><p>“Clear!” The woman let go of the airbag and leaned back as her partner pressed the shock button on the AED.  A second later, the computer sounded. <em>“Begin CPR.”</em></p><p>Jason’s hands were on Grayson’s chest again, pumping in synch with the squeeze of the airbag. </p><p>“Come on, Grayson…” one of the cops nearby breathed almost prayer like.</p><p>The machine’s voice was getting on his nerves as it prompted them to continue CPR every few seconds for a full minutes before instructing them to clear again. <em>“Analyzing… Shock advised.”</em></p><p>“Clear!” The man pressed the shock button again and Jason and the woman resumed performing CPR as soon as the machine told them to.</p><p>“Don’t do this.” Jason choked behind clenched teeth. “Don’t you fucking do this!”</p><p>Another full minute, another shock, the seconds kept ticking and the man between them was still unresponsive. Jason was beginning to believe they were working on a dead man when Dick’s mouth suddenly opened beneath the mask with a jagged cough. He pulled his hands away from Dick’s torso and wanted to weep when he saw the chest rising and falling on its own.</p><p>Organized chaos exploded around them as the airbag was quickly replaced with an oxygen tank and an IV was being inserted into Grayson’s arm. The medics were calling out instructions and within seconds he was helping, alongside Redwing and two other offers, to lift Dick onto a waiting gurney.</p><p>He took an aborted step to follow as Dick was raced back toward the waiting ambulance, and Redwing was there with his helmet in hand. “We need to go.”</p><p>Jason nodded absently; his eyes locked on the man being wheeled away.</p><p>“Hood.” Redwing grabbed his arm to gain his attention. “Batman’s got Firefly cornered. He’s going to need us to bring him in.”</p><p>The pair of vigilantes jogged back around the building, his ankle twinging with every step, to where their cycles were parked. There were nearly a dozen police cruises present and three fire engines.  The firefighters were working efficiently to bring the fire under control, though a few were helping Simon and Toby toward a second ambulance.</p><p>Blake was standing on shaky legs outside of the rig his partner was being loaded into.  He glanced over to Red Hood and Redwing as they were starting up their cycles and met the lenses of Jason’s domino mask before he could redon his helmet.  The man mouthed the words “Thank you” before climbing in after Grayson.</p><p><em>“We’re on our way now.” </em> Redwing’s voice came over the speaker inside the helmet when Jason fitted it over his head again. <em>“ETA, nine minutes.”</em></p><p>“Red Hood to Oracle.” He called as he started his cycle and sped after Redwing.</p><p>
  <em>“I’m already monitoring the hospital, Red Hood. I’ll keep you updated on his condition.”</em>
</p><p>He didn’t bother responding to her, she knew how grateful he was.</p><p>As they raced through the city streets, he pushed away his worry and fear for Dick. He had other things to concentrate on.</p><p>Like making Lynns pay for every hurt inflicted on anyone tonight.</p><p>It would take both Batman and Redwing to stop him from killing the man.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The companion piece to this is posted as the next work in the series. Each chapter here will have a corresponding chapter there.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Won't Watch You Die Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">5. I won’t watch you die again.</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>It was all over the news. It had been for hours.</p>
<p>Bruce Wayne had been shot.</p>
<p>Dick had been just climbing the last of the stairs to his condo after physical therapy when his cell phone had chimed.  He had spoken with Maggie before he was turning around and heading back down.</p>
<p>Apparently, Mr. Wayne was asking for him.</p>
<p>Which made no sense.</p>
<p>He may have known the man briefly as a kid, but other than the one visit to his office after graduation Dick hadn’t spared much of a thought for the billionaire or his family.  Over the years he had purposefully avoided the press and tabloid, not caring in the least about The Prince of Gotham or his sons.</p>
<p>So that begged the question, why was Bruce Wayne asking for him to come see him just after waking from surgery?</p>
<p>“Aren’t you sick of this place yet, Grayson?”</p>
<p>The two officers at the entrance to the wing were known to him: Walters and Quentin from the 33<sup>rd</sup>.  He offered them a wry grin as he approached. “On my salary, Walters? No way I can afford a room in Old Gotham General. For my convalescent needs I reserve a room at St. Augustine’s.”</p>
<p>Quentin, a man not much older than Dick and sporting a shaved crew cut, snorted, and crossed his arms over his chest. “No shit.  Wayne takes one piddly little slug in the leg and the pussy closes off an entire floor for himself.”</p>
<p>The cringe on his face must have shown as both men frowned and looked apologetic. Quentin ran a hand over his head, embarrassed at his comment. “Sorry, Grayson. I have never been <em>shot at</em> let alone shot so I have no right saying shit like that.”</p>
<p>“Forget it.” He waved off the man’s apology and tucked his hands into his jacket. “And the guys downstairs told me it was his son that had the wing isolated, not Wayne himself.”</p>
<p>Walters, a man at least a decade older with a bald head and dark skin, nodded. “He was there when the old man was hit, and nurses were telling me he was tearing through this place like a man possessed. He arranged to have all the patients already on the wing moved to private rooms on another floor and apparently will be paying their hospital bills. Then he was vetting the doctor’s and nurses while he had their personal physician driven in. No one was allowed near Wayne without his son’s say so.”</p>
<p>“That, my friends, is the power of money.” Grayson shook his head and gestured past them. “It’s also why I am here instead of vegging out on my sofa with a beer and Chinese. Gotham’s Prince has summoned me and, like a good little subject, here I am.”</p>
<p>The two chuckled and Quentin pushed the door open for him. “I’m sure the Commissioner issuing the summons had nothing to do with it either. She told us on her way out half an hour ago to expect you. I think they’re the door directly across from the nurses’ station.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.” He passed by them. “And hey, I’d like to see you try saying no to Commissioner Sawyer some time.”</p>
<p>“She’s not our mother.” Walters gave him a little wave as the door swung shut behind him.</p>
<p>The hall was too calm for a hospital, in his opinion, but that was to be expected considering there was only one patient currently within a hundred yards. The handful of nurses at the station were talking quietly with a silver haired man and woman, both appearing to be in their late sixties. The man was tall and well groomed, impeccably dressed in a perfectly tailored three-piece suit. The woman’s hair was cut in a practical pixie cut and wearing minimal makeup, comfortably dressed in a set of scrubs and the standard white doctor’s coat.</p>
<p>The man glanced Dick’s way as he walked nearer and excused himself from the medical staff. “Officer Grayson, thank you for joining us.” He offered his hand when the two stood a few feet apart.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome.” He accepted the hand and they shook cordially. “Though, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure why I am here, Mr. …?”</p>
<p>“Pennyworth, sir; Mr. Wayne’s major-domo. As to why you are here?” He gestured to the room right across the hall with the closed door and curtains drawn around the windows. “Perhaps it would be best to allow Mr. Wayne to answer your questions.”</p>
<p>He bobbed his head in agreement and fell into step behind the man.  With a light rap of knuckles against the door, Mr. Pennyworth pushed the door open minutely. “Pardon the interruption, Master Bruce, Master Timothy. Officer Grayson is here as you’ve requested.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Alfred.” The voice was the same baritone timber he remembered from his few memories of the man, but the image of Bruce Wayne he had in his mind was not the same as the man laying in the hospital bed before him.</p>
<p>Bruce was pasty and pale, dark hair a stark contrast to his skin, and his deep-blue eyes shone with pain and pain relievers. Beneath the blanket he could see the thick bandages encompassing the man’s right thigh and Dick felt a sympathetic ghost of pain from his own left leg. There were several IVs attached to his arm, and a nasal canula secured beneath his nose – which meant the man had lost enough blood that it wasn’t carrying the oxygen he needed throughout his body.</p>
<p>Standing next to Wayne was a young man, maybe six or seven years younger than Dick. He was tall, and lean, but with the suit jacket removed and draped over a nearby chair Dick could recognize the well maintain muscles of the arms and chest beneath the thin white dress shirt. His hair was a shade darker than Wayne’s and gelled into a professional style he had seen Jason wear a time or two. The younger man’s eyes were a lighter blue but older than they appeared as he took the few steps toward Dick with his hand held out in greeting.</p>
<p>“I’m Timothy Wayne, Officer Grayson.”</p>
<p>He shook the hand while he thought of everything he knew about Wayne’s youngest son.  It wasn’t a lot.  Only that he was adopted a few years prior and was taking the business world by storm. “It’s good to meet you, Mr. Wayne.” It felt odd calling someone so visibly younger than himself Mister, and by the smile the other man now wore he felt the same.</p>
<p>“Tim, please, or Mr. Drake if you’re more comfortable with formality. This one there, is Mr. Wayne.”  The poked his thumb in the direction of the man in the bed and quickly returned to his spot next to his father’s side.</p>
<p>“How are you feeling, Mr. Wayne?” He asked politely when he came to stand at the foot of the bed, his hand clasped lightly together behind his back.</p>
<p>“All things considered? It could be worse.” The older man shifted on the mattress and with Tim’s help was sitting more comfortably for the upcoming conversation. “Tim, can you give us the room please?”</p>
<p>The young executive glanced at Dick before looking back at his father. “Are you sure about this, Bruce? JT is not going to be happy.”</p>
<p>“Your brother’s not going to have a say in the matter.” The weariness in the man’s voice was not something one would expect Bruce Wayne to show in front of a relative strange, and apparently the youngest Wayne agreed if his expression was anything to go by.</p>
<p>Still, Tim nodded and grabbed his suit jacket from the chair and headed for the door. “I’ll wait downstairs for JT. His flight landed thirty-five minutes ago so, he should be here soon. It was nice to meet you, Officer Grayson.”</p>
<p>As soon as Tim was gone and the door shut again, Bruce motioned to the chair next to his bed. “It’s good to see you again, Dick.  It’s been a few years and I’d been thinking of reaching out to you for the past few month, to be honest.”</p>
<p>“If you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Wayne, why?” He moved to the chair and sat rigidly on the edge of the seat. He only did so because he remembered all too well how uncomfortable it became looking up at everyone all the time.</p>
<p>“It wasn’t too long ago that you were in this very same position.” He answered compassionately. “And when I spoke with Commissioner Sawyer – your mother earlier today we talked about you.  She told me about the spat of bad luck you’ve had yourself lately.</p>
<p>He held back a scoff of derision at that, but it was a near thing.  The past ten months had been a hell of a lot more than a <em>spat of bad luck</em>.  Unsure of what to say he cleared his throat at the discomfort he felt under the man’s scrutiny. “You could say that. But I’m sure commiserating over similar traumatic events in not why you asked me here.”</p>
<p>“It’s not.” Wayne admitted and sighed. “The GCPD has been made aware of threats to myself and Timothy the past few days.  While not uncommon, the details of these threats have given credence to the situation. Pictures of myself and Timothy in our offices, in meetings, about town; thankfully never at our home.  My eldest, JT, has been out of the country and we thought safe from targeting until we received images just prior to my shooting. They were of my son as he boarded the plane in Hong Kong last night, and another of him sleeping on the plane in flight.”</p>
<p>“Someone was on the plane with your son, and you believe whoever is making these threats will use your incapacitation to make a move against one if not both of your children.” Dick deduced grimly. “If GCPD has been alerted to the situation and the threat against your sons, I still don’t understand why I’m here.”</p>
<p>“We still have no idea as to who they are.” Wayne admitted with a frown. “They had me wounded when they could have killed me.”</p>
<p>“Meaning they want something from you.” Dick leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and met the man’s eyes. “This was a play to prove the seriousness of their threats, of what they are willing to do to get what they want. A promise of what they would do to your sons if you did not cooperate.”</p>
<p>Bruce grimly nodded in agreement. “Which is why my boys need to be protected. Timothy leaves for Metropolis this evening and he has friends arriving this afternoon to escort him there.  He will be well taken care of.”</p>
<p>“You oldest is just getting back to the country.” Dick acknowledge with a frown of his own. “And you would not have worried him with this unless you were certain the threat was real.”</p>
<p>“Which I was not until there was a hole in my leg and JT was already halfway home.” Wayne admitted with a sigh. “So, he would have been unaware of the situation until the officers the Commissioner sent approached him upon his arrival less than an hour ago.”</p>
<p>“You want me to protect your son.” Dick concluded with a shake of his head. “I have been on medical leave for several months, Mr. Wayne.”</p>
<p>“I was informed of your status but the Commissioner assured me you were more than physically capable of what I’m asking for. I believe she was planning on reactivating you on a limited capacity until the situation has been dealt with.” Wayne sighed. “And there were other factors that played into my request for you specifically.”</p>
<p>It was true, he would be physically capable.  His shoulder no longer gave him problems, the micro-fractures in his feet had healed, and his chest x-rays had been clear this past week even if he still got a little winded if he pushed it too far. The final four weeks of his mandated leave would be geared more to ensure his mental health than his physical.</p>
<p>What grated on his nerves, however, was that he was essentially not being given a choice. The decision had apparently already been made between Mr. Wayne and his boss’s boss, though he would be speaking with her about not consulting with his Captain or him as she would have any other officer. But then Mr. Wayne’s last statement replayed in his mind and had him arching an eyebrow curiously. “And what exactly are those factors, Mr. Wayne?”</p>
<p>“Three days! I left you and the replacement alone for three days!” The familiar voice preceded the body that burst through the door, causing Dick to feel as if he was falling through the floor. “And I come home to a police escort and – Dick?”</p>
<p>Jason Todd stood in the doorway, briefcase in hand and with a poleaxed expression as he stared at the man sitting next to his father.</p>
<p>His father.</p>
<p>Jason Todd.</p>
<p>JT.</p>
<p>JT Wayne.</p>
<p>And then Dick felt as if everything shifted and suddenly the world was very different. He rose, surprisingly steady, from his seat and when he spoke his voice was calm if lacking any true feeling. “I believe I understand those factors now, Mr. Wayne. I’ll wait outside while you catch you son up on what’s happened.”</p>
<p>He couldn’t help but notice the wince that crossed Jason’s – no, JT’s face.  He didn’t want it to affect him, but the reality was that it did. It hurt.</p>
<p>A lot.</p>
<p>“Dick.” Bruce called out to him, but he didn’t stop as he walked to the door.</p>
<p>He was passing by JT, deftly walking around him and out the door when the younger man reached out and placed a hesitant hand on his arm. “I can explain.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure you’ll try.” Dick couldn’t bring himself to look at JT as he carefully extracted his arm. “See to your father, Mr. Wayne.”</p>
<p>The stillness of the corridor was not welcomed. Dick wanted noise, and loud, and anything to drown out the myriad of thoughts racing through his head.  Jason Todd was JT Wayne, eldest son of the richest man on the planet. And for months the man had been lying to him. Blatantly and repeatedly to his face.</p>
<p>Walking down the hall toward the window at the end, he drew out his cell phone and sent a text to Maggie.  **You couldn’t talk to me first?**</p>
<p>Her response came seconds later. **You wouldn’t have agreed.**</p>
<p>**The pretense of being given the option would have been appreciated.**</p>
<p>**Noted. Walters and Quentin have extra gear in their shop. Take what you need, lock him down. And for god’s sake, protect yourself.**</p>
<p>**Yes Ma’am.**</p>
<p>“Officer Grayson?” The youngest Wayne’s voice was quiet but confident from behind him.</p>
<p>Dick looked to the teen and pocketed his phone. “What can I do for you, Tim?”</p>
<p>“It’s not an easy thing, making friends when our father is who he is.” The youngest Wayne ran a hand through his hair, looking at the cityscape rather than the man beside him. “Most of the time we have to wear the masks and costumes of who we’re expected to be. Timothy Wayne instead of just Tim; JT not Jason. When we get the chance to just be ourselves, we tend to selfishly hang on to that longer than we should.”</p>
<p>“I know a little something about having an influential parent.” Dick sighed unintentionally. “And about the public expectations that come with that.”</p>
<p>“Then you should understand why he hadn’t told you before.” Tim glanced at him from the corner of his eyes before turning back to the view outside the window. “Dating is hard enough, but with Bruce Wayne as your father? How do we know who is genuinely interested or just taking their shot at the billionaire’s sons?”</p>
<p>“We’re not dating.” He interjected automatically, then cringed at how petulant he sounded.</p>
<p>“Not technically.” Tim agreed with a half smile. “I know Jay asked you out a while ago, he was all but giddy while bragging about it to Bruce and me right after he had. But then you’ve been hurt, in the hospital where only family was allowed to see you for the longest time.”</p>
<p>Dick felt a twitch of his own lips when he remembered the couple of times Jason had snuck into his ICU room to visit after he’d been shot, and again after the Firefly incident. Apparently, the man’s little brother wasn’t aware of that fact as Tim continued speaking.</p>
<p>“He’s wanted to tell you for a while now, but there really hasn’t been an opportune moment.” Seeing Dick’s incredulous expression, he pressed on. “Not that this is exactly ideal either, but Bruce likes to meddle.”</p>
<p>“Tim.” Jason’s voice interrupted the pair and they turned to face the man as he approached them.  His face was impassive, and he stopped a few feet from the window. “Bruce wants to go over the details of your meetings in Metropolis tomorrow. Are Conner and Cassie still planning to drive up to get you tonight?</p>
<p>“I think they were flying.” The other Wayne corrected as he pushed moved away from the window.  “I’m meeting them at the Manor just before six.”</p>
<p>Jason gripped his younger brother’s shoulder as he passed. “Have them pick you up here. Until we know what’s going on, you go no where on your own. Especially at night.”</p>
<p>Tim looked back at Dick before putting his hand over Jason’s and squeezed affectionately. “Same goes for you, Jay. Call me later.”</p>
<p>A moment later it was just the two of them and Dick cleared his throat. “Are you staying here for a while, Mr. Wayne?”</p>
<p>Jason flinched at the form of address, his fist tightening around the handle of the briefcase he still carried. “Dick-”</p>
<p>“If you’ll remain in the room with your family,” he interrupted professionally. He would deal with the thoughts and feelings racing through his head later when he didn’t have a job to do. “I have equipment to procure from the officers downstairs and then I’ve been instructed by my superiors to get you to a secured location as soon as possible.”</p>
<p>Several seconds passed in heavy silence before Jason sighed and shook his head. “Bruce was already fighting the pain meds and will be out soon. But he was able to make his position explicitly clear in this matter. I’m to take these documents back to Wayne Tower then remain in the penthouse there until he is released from the hospital. My understanding is that you’re with me until told otherwise.”</p>
<p>“That’s correct.” Dick motioned for the other man to precede him as they started back toward the exit. </p>
<p>The air around them was strained.  Dick had them pause briefly and collected a second set of keys from Walters.  A few minutes later they were standing in the underground parking, Jason tucked inside the back of Walters’ and Quentin’s shop while Dick took the extra equipment from the back.  Without a word between them, he helped Jason into a tactical vest before donning one for himself.  He equipped a handgun and shoulder harness to his torso, a second sidearm on his ankle, and a taser on his belt. He stowed two spare magazines of ammunition on his gear belt as well as a collapsible hardened baton.</p>
<p>“Is it weird that I find that incredibly hot?” Jason asked from the backseat, watching intently as Dick geared up.</p>
<p>Dick rolled his eyes as he signed the logbook beneath a list of the items he took. “My car is in the lot outside.” He informed his charge while he took a hand-held radio and closed the hatch. “Less than fifty yards from the building but I want you to stay in front of me at all times, head down.”</p>
<p>“Is this really necessary?” Jason climbed out of the backseat and closed the door behind him. “I’ve been threatened before and never needed a bodyguard.”</p>
<p>“Had your father been shot before?” He replied flatly as he gave Jason his jacket to wear over the vest. Frowning, Jason accepted it without another word. “Let’s go. I want you in that penthouse within the next thirty minutes.”</p>
<p>They didn’t speak again as the exited the parking structure and out into the setting sun.  Dick was tense as they quickly walked away form the building and across the open lot. He kept one hand on Jason’s shoulder and his eyes constantly looking around.  Even when they reached his Chevy Cruz and were safely pulling away from the hospital he didn’t relax.</p>
<p>“Are you going to ignore me the entire time?” Jason questioned a few blocks later, his palm holding up his head while his elbow leaned against the ledge of the passenger door. “Because if you are, this may be the worst date ever.”</p>
<p>“This isn’t a date!” Dick snapped, effortlessly steering the sedan through traffic.</p>
<p>“I am aware, but at least you’re not ignoring me.” Jason sighed and stared out the side window. “I should have told you sooner.”</p>
<p>He clenched his teeth, focussing on the other vehicles rather than his passenger. “Now is not the time, Wayne.”</p>
<p>“Jason.” He sighed again then motioned to an upcoming street. “Turn there and I can get us into the Executive Parkade beneath Wayne Tower. There’s an express elevator to the higher floors. The only access to the penthouse is through Bruce’s office on the seventy-fifth floor.”</p>
<p>Dick knew he was being petty, but he kept silent as he followed the directions Jason gave him.  After inputting the code for the parkade, it didn’t take long for him to navigate through the aisles to an empty stall with a plaque bearing the name  ‘JT Wayne’. He wanted to frown at the reminder but kept it in check as he exited the car first. He felt Jason’s eyes on him as he walked around the car, carefully taking in everything around them. There were still a lot of expensive looking cars in the parking structure despite the lateness in the day. After a moment, and satisfied they were alone in the immediate area, he opened the door for the eldest of the Wayne children and followed him toward the nearby elevator.</p>
<p>“How many people will be in the building still?” He asked as Jason opened a covered keypad next to the elevator doors and entered a sequence of numbers.</p>
<p>“Most of the general staff will have left about an hour ago.” He answered while they waited for the elevator car to descend. “Many of the upper management and members of the board don’t leave before eight or nine. Even then, the building never really empties. Between the cleaners and the people burning the midnight oil, there can easily be a couple dozen people inside pretty much every night.”</p>
<p>“And who all has access to this elevator and upper floors?” Dick kept scanning their surroundings.</p>
<p>“The Executive elevator runs directly from here to the sixtieth floor without stop, which will take about three minutes.” Jason explained as he leaned against the concrete wall. “The general elevators stop at all floors between the first and sixtieth. There’s a reception and security desk between that and a second set of elevators that will have access to the executive floors. Visitors are given a key card that corresponds to a single floor. The highest anyone without the last name of Wayne can go is the seventy-fifth.  Bruce’s office is there and it’s through there we’ll use the private elevator up to the penthouse on the seventy-seventh. It’s sealed with biometrics keyed to Bruce, Tim, Alfred, and me. Once we get into the elevator, I’ll input a code ensures this car will not stop until it reaches the seventy-fifth floor. It’s programmed to slow down around the sixtieth, so we’re going to be stuck in there for about four minutes.”</p>
<p>Dick nodded his understanding and the pair stood there silently until the doors slid open with a chime. They entered the car, and Jason stepped over to the operating panel, put the briefcase he still carried onto the floor, and once again entered a series of digits instead of just pressing a corresponding floor. The doors closed and a moment later the car began its smooth ascent into the tower. He moved to the far corner of the car and leaned against the wall, the handrail pressing into his back.  He tried not to react to Jason’s unwavering stare and kept his arms crossed over his chest.  This was the first time he had been alone with Jason since he’d been released from the hospital after the Firefly incident. And even then, nurses and orderlies had never been far away.</p>
<p>“So, scale of one to ten, how mad are you?”</p>
<p>He looked up into Jason’s verdant eyes and shook his head. “I’m not mad.”</p>
<p>Jason seemed to be examining his face before he spoke again. “You’re mad.”</p>
<p>“I’m not mad.” He insisted wearily. “I get it, JT-”</p>
<p>“Jason.” The other man snapped with a frown. “With you I was never JT.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure about that?” Dick couldn’t help but snap back. “You’ve been lying to me for months-”</p>
<p>“I never lied.” Jason asserted. “Nothing I ever said to you was a lie.”</p>
<p>“No? What about your name?”</p>
<p>“Jason Todd.”</p>
<p>“Wayne.”</p>
<p>“A technicality!” He threw his hands up in the air, his exasperation plain on his face. “I told you I was adopted by my foster father and that I rarely used his last name as my own.  I just never told you he was Bruce Fucking Wayne!”</p>
<p>“And I get it!” Dick said with a frown of his own. “But you’ve got to give me time to process all this. Not only are you JT Wayne – which seriously, I get why you didn’t say anything – but now you’re family’s being threatened and I’m supposed to be protecting you until they catch the guys who shot your father who, by the way, just happens to be <em>Bruce Fucking Wayne</em>!”</p>
<p>“And that’s a problem?”</p>
<p>“It is when all I want to do is this.” A single long stride had him across the floor. Dick stepped into the younger man's space, pressed him against the wall, and melded their mouths together. Jason's eyes were wide with surprise but then a second passed and he was returning the kiss with a passion equal to Dick's.</p>
<p>The kiss was hard, demanding, lips and teeth clashing together as they fought for dominance. Dick’s hands were flat on the wall on either side of Jason’s head, his body keeping the taller man pinned. Jason didn't seem to object as his hands grabbed onto Dick's hips and tried to pull him closer. Heat flooded through him when their pelvises touched, and their cocks were rubbing against the other.</p>
<p>Eventually they parted for air, gasping and panting, and their eyes met. Dick could not prevent the smirk that played across his lips at the stunned expression his companion wore. "Is this all right, Jason?" he asked breathlessly.</p>
<p>Jason’s brow wrinkled in consideration then he gave a little frown. "It's against regulations for an officer on protection detail to be in such a compromising position with the protectee, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Dick swallowed hard and nodded, letting his hands drop away from the wall as he went to step back. He was not prepared for the world to spin as he was suddenly turned and his back thudded against the wall. Jason’s body was flush against his, the man's larger frame trapping him there.</p>
<p>“This is a more suitable position, don’t you think?” Jason smirked before his mouth was on Dick’s again, heavy and commanding. The lips parted, tongues dancing together as if they had done this a hundred times before. Dick mimicked Jason’s earlier action and grabbed onto the bigger man’s waist, drawing him as close as he could. Their hips thrust together, and the purring of Dick’s desire was changing to a full-out roar of want.</p>
<p>Neither man was expecting the jolt of the elevator car as it suddenly started slowing down. Jason would have stumbled to the floor if Dick hadn’t already been holding on to him, and nearly a half minute later they came to a complete stop.  Their arousal’s quickly fading, Dick looked over to the control panel. “What happened?”</p>
<p>“We’ve been stopped.” The other man answered incredulously as he pulled away. “Between floors I’d guess since the door aren’t opening.”</p>
<p>“How’s that possible?” Dick drew the revolver from its holster and thumbed the safety off, careful to keep his finger clear of the trigger for now.</p>
<p>“I have no idea.” Jason started pulling open the panel to get a closer look of the controls. He slammed his hand against the emergency button, but no alarm sounded. He didn’t bother with the call button and both he and Dick quickly withdrew their smartphones. Jason shook his head a second later. “No service.”</p>
<p>“Me neither.” Dick unclipped the radio from his belt, but wasn’t surprised to see no light indicating transmission, even when he adjusted the frequency. He looked up to Jason and shook his head. “Talk to me.”</p>
<p>“Unless we want to climb out of the emergency hatch above your head,” He motioned to the trap door. “We’re stuck”</p>
<p>“Chances this is a mechanical issue and not a manmade situation?”</p>
<p>The car shuddered and started to creep its way downward again and Jason gave him a look that did not bode well for them. “None.”</p>
<p>“How long would it take to get that hatch open?”</p>
<p>“Too long.”</p>
<p>“Right.” Dick grabbed Jason away from the panel and pulled him into the opposite corner next to the door. Using his own body to shield the other man, his back to Jason’s chest, he shifted his finger to hover over the trigger. “You listen to me and I’ll get you out of this. Trust me.”</p>
<p>“With my life.”</p>
<p>Dick chuckled grimly as the elevator finally stopped. “No pressure there.”</p>
<p>The doors opened silently and even without being able to see them Dick could feel the men standing outside on the other side. There were a few seconds of silence before a worryingly familiar voice called out to them.</p>
<p>“We don’t want to hurt you, Grayson. We just want Wayne.”</p>
<p>“Fuck!” Dick hissed before stealing himself and twisting to take a quick glance out the door. He ducked back a second later just as several warning shots chipped into the wall opposite the open door. “What was that about not wanting to hurt me, Quentin?”</p>
<p>“Friends of yours?” Jason’s breath was warm against his ear, and he knew the words wouldn’t be heard beyond the pair of them.</p>
<p>“They’re cops.” Grayson whispered back. “Four of them.”</p>
<p>“Just letting you know how serious we are.” Quentin’s voice came again sounding almost bored. “We’re getting paid a lot to deliver, Grayson, and killing you wasn’t supposed to be part of the deal. I’d really like to avoid that if we can. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a cut? Send out Junior and I’ll personally deposit twenty grand into your account before we leave the building.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t see Walters out here with you. Your partner getting a cut to look the other way?” Dick called out in response, his mind desperately trying to plan a way out.  He could try shooting their way out, but the numbers were definitely stacked against them.</p>
<p>“Walters is shiny, just like you.” Quentin said dryly. “I had to duck out suddenly when my ‘folks’ called with an emergency at their place across town.”</p>
<p>“Flimsy, Quentin.”</p>
<p>“But effective.” Quentin responded. “So, here’s our dilemma. You’re a good shot, Grayson. Quick. But then so are we. How many of us do you think you can take out before we get in there and put you down?”</p>
<p>“What if I went with you willingly?”</p>
<p>Jason’s voice startled him, and he turned his head to glare at the man he was spectacularly failing to protect. “What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed lowly.</p>
<p>“Saving your life.” Jason glared right back and tried to step out from behind him.</p>
<p>Dick twisted around and pinned him in place. “Are you insane?” He growled. “You go out there-”</p>
<p>“You don’t get shot.” The intensity in the man’s green eyes was shocking. “I won’t watch you die again.”</p>
<p>Won’t watch him…? Again?</p>
<p>Confusion stilled his protests as he took in Jason’s steeled expression.</p>
<p>“Are you finished?” Quentin called into the resulting silence. “Mr. Wayne – may I call you JT? – if you surrender yourself to me and my friends, I can promise you we won’t touch a hair on Grayson’s head. We’re all planning on retiring in a non extradition country by this time tomorrow, so it’s really no matter if he’s alive.”</p>
<p>“You think I’m going to let him do that, Quentin?” Grayson snarled, staring hard into Jason’s eyes, and trying to understand the change he was seeing in the man. It was subtle, and if he hadn’t been so close, he probably would have missed the tensing of the jaw or the fire now burning in those emerald eyes.</p>
<p>A clatter of metal sounded on the floor behind him and he looked down at the pair of regulation cuffs lying in the center of car. “Sixty seconds before we come in to get you, Wayne. Grayson won’t be breathing if we have to.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be stupid!” Dick hissed, his body moving to keep Jason in place when he tried to step around him.</p>
<p>“And don’t be stubborn!” Jason whispered back harshly. “I go with them you stay alive to come after me. With you in this elevator they have to take me down to the sixtieth to get me out of the building. That’ll give you about ninety seconds to get to me.”</p>
<p>Dick opened his mouth to protest again but Jason silenced him with a searing kiss. Using his distraction, the larger man spun their positions and had Dick wedged into the corner before he could stop it. “I’m trusting you with my life, Dick.”</p>
<p>Jason stepped back and into the open.</p>
<p>“Very good, JT.” Quentin crowed with satisfaction and Dick flinched when a trio of laser sites appeared on Jason’s neck above the edge of the tactical vest he wore. “Toss everything out, Grayson. Phone, keys, weapons, everything from the list you so thoughtfully left in my shop.”</p>
<p>“Goddamn it, Jason.” Dick growled impotently. “All right!” He bellowed at his fellow officers when a fourth laser site shone on Jason’s forehead.</p>
<p>Thumbing the safety back on he crouched and set the revolver on the floor before sliding it out of the elevator. He kept his eyes locked on Jason’s as he removed the back up piece from his ankle, the gear belt around his waist, and the tactical vest on his torso.  One by one he slid them out of reach.</p>
<p>“That’s all of it.” He spat.</p>
<p>“I thought you’d try to keep something.” Quentin admitted with a chuckle. “Come out where we can see you, Grayson.”</p>
<p>Jason held up his hand to stop Dick before he could move. He looked away from Dick, toward the men holding him at gunpoint. “You swear you won’t hurt him?”</p>
<p>“Honestly, I doubt you’ll believe anything I say, but I we’re not going to hurt him unless he forces our hand.” Quentin assured him. “You can stay between him and us; secure him with the cuffs to the handrail and we’ll be on our way.”</p>
<p>Jason looked down at the restraints and slowly picked them up. The red dots steady on Jason’s vulnerable spots kept Dick from further hesitation and he stepped out next to the other man. Without a word, he held his hands out.</p>
<p>The larger man snapped one of the gleaming rings around his left wrist before guiding him toward the railing at the back of the car. Jason weaved the chain links around the slat of wood and fastened Dick’s other hand in place. A peculiar expression was on Jason’s face as the two looked at one another.</p>
<p>“I promised myself the next time I put you in handcuffs it would be for something a lot more fun that the first two times.” Jason’s voice was pitched lower than normal, his words hushed and only audible to Dick.  It was a tone of voice Dick had heard twice now and his stomach twisted as the pieces fell into place. Jason lightly pressed his lips to Dick’s stunned mouth as footsteps suddenly approached them.  “Ninety seconds, Grayson. Your turn to save my life.”</p>
<p>Wide-eyed, Dick could only jerk against the shackles – carefully schooling his features and movement when he felt how loose the handcuff was on his right arm – as Jason was dragged away from him and out of the elevator car. Quentin was standing there with a smirk of victory while he casually held a gun in his palm and Jason’s hands were cuffed behind his back.</p>
<p>One officer picked up all of Dick’s discarded gear and took the lead. The other two held on to Jason’s arms and dragged him down the corridor toward the stairs. Quentin was still wearing the smug expression when he entered the elevator and picked up the forgotten briefcase. He stepped into Dick’s personal space and pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple.</p>
<p>“You son of a bitch!” Jason’s voice roared through the hall and Dick glanced over to see him fighting against the grips on his arms as he was manhandled into the stairwell. “You kill him you won’t make it out of the city let alone the country!” The door shut but did nothing to diminish Jason’s yells.</p>
<p>Quentin was still staring at him when Dick looked back, but the smugness was gone. He looked uncertain though the hold on his weapon didn’t waver. “I should kill you.”</p>
<p>“Probably.” Dick agreed with a vicious sneer. “But you would have shot me from a distance if you were going to.”</p>
<p>“I’m not a killer.” Quentin defended himself as he drew back and holstered his revolver.</p>
<p>“But I am.” Dick promised with a look that had the man cringing and hurrying to the stairwell.</p>
<p>As soon as the man was gone, Dick wasted no time slipped his right hand free of the metal.  Letting the restraints dangle from his left wrist he was bolting out of the stalled elevator and toward the stairs. He pulled to door open carefully and peered through the crack. The square staircase had eight steps going up and down the four walls with a small landing in each corner. There was no movement going up, and Quentin’s head was just disappearing around the ledge. He stepped out into the stairwell, closing the door silently behind him, and tried to time Quentin’s descent. </p>
<p>Dick was only going to have one shot at this.</p>
<p>Pausing for only a few seconds, Dick exploded into motion. He planted his hands on the railing directly in front of him and leaped. His body sored over the metal rail and across the plunging gap in the center. He fell a dozen feet before his hands wrapped around the rail opposite and an entire floor down. He planted the balls of his feet on the concrete of the stairs themselves and pushed, reversing the direction of his momentum, and vaulted over the rail. He twisted his body, bringing his feet to collide with the side of Quentin’s head.</p>
<p>His fellow officer gave a shout of surprise at Dick’s sudden appearance, but it was stifled quickly between the blow to the head and the force with which he hit the concrete wall. The briefcase clattered down the few steps to the next landing and Quentin slid boneless down the stairs after it. Dick slowed long enough to take the pair of cuffs from Quentin’s gear belt and use them to secure the unconscious man to the metal rail. He relieved the other man of his revolver and taser and jumped down to the next landing.</p>
<p>Below he could hear the muffled sounds of a scuffle and glanced over the edge.  He could see shadows a few flights below and continuing to move down the stairwell. He tucked the pistol into the back waistband of his jeans and readied the taser in his left hand. Without hesitation, he repeated his previous action and leapt over the railing.</p>
<p>He allowed his body to fall two stories before reaching out with his right hand and grabbing onto the opposite rail and placing his feet again on the concrete to stop his fall. He felt something pull in his shoulder but buried the sudden pain as he fired off the taser. The prongs stabbed into the man in the lead’s face and electricity sent him convulsing to the stairs.</p>
<p>The gun was pulled from his waistband as he was hurdling over the rail and onto the stairs above the remaining men and their captive. He had the safety off and his finger over the trigger as he pointed at them and growled, “Let him go.”</p>
<p>Dick had never heard himself sound like that – enraged and animalistic – but seeing the rapidly bruising mark on Jason’s cheek, and the thick strip of tape one of them had gagged him with, was enough to have him seeing red. He took two steps down toward them and the last of the would-be kidnappers quickly let go of Jason’s arms, allowing the younger man to meet Dick half way up the stairs.</p>
<p>Guiding him with a gentle hand, Dick maneuvered Jason to the step behind him and motioned to the two cops with the gun in his hand. “On your knees, face the wall, hands on your heads.”</p>
<p>They complied and Dick was on them in an instant.  He used the handle of the gun to strike them both on the back of their heads, rendering them unconscious. He could feel Jason watching him as he searched through their gear belts and tactical vest, divesting them of all weapons and keys.  He used the handcuff key he found to free himself from the restraint and then used it secure one of the men. He found a second set of cuffs on the other and in seconds both men were cuffed back to back, their arms hooked together.</p>
<p>He glanced at the still twitching man that had slid down to the next landing when a hand entered his vision with an open set of cuffs in the palm. Dick looked up at Jason who had – somewhat unsurprisingly – freed himself from his own restraints and peeled the tape from his mouth. “Thought you might like to use these.”</p>
<p>The last dirty cop was unconscious from the taser and his trip down the stairs and Dick had him locked with the cuffs to the rail quickly. Taking a few seconds to regain his breath, and to start feeling the pain in his shoulder, he motioned for Jason to join him and they walked the few stairs to sit on the next landing. Silence hovered around the pair, Dick massaging gently at the growing stiffness in his shoulder. Even when he opened his mouth to talk, he realized he didn’t know what to say and closed it again.</p>
<p>They sat like that for nearly a full minute before Jason finally pulled out his phone from the pocket of the jacket he was wearing. “We’ve got service again.”</p>
<p>Dick looked up at the closest man unconscious on the landing above them. “I think he’s got my phone.”</p>
<p>Jason chuckled and sent off a text. “I’ve let building security know they were played; they would have had to give these guys access to the upper floors. They’ll get a team up here in a few minutes.”</p>
<p>With an absent nod, he continued to stare at the blank wall in front of them. After another near minute of quiet, he ultimately gathered his thoughts to speak.  “That was you who broke into my condo.”</p>
<p>The apparent vigilante beside him didn’t answer right away, but after a few seconds his guilt-ridden whisper came. “Yeah.”</p>
<p>“And at the club.”</p>
<p>“… yeah.”</p>
<p>“Fuck.” The spot on the wall his was staring at went out of focus and he scrubbed a hand over his mouth and chin. “And I thought you being JT Wayne was hard to process.”</p>
<p>“I think they’re using all the cuffs if you planned on arresting me.” Jason stated flatly.</p>
<p>Dick couldn’t stop the almost hysterical laugh that passed his lips. His hands came up to cover his eyes and he allowed himself to lean back until he was laying on the cold concrete beneath them. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I talked to the DA and had all those charges dropped a week ago.”</p>
<p>“Wait, what?” The sound of Jason’s incredulity had Dick opening his eyes and looking up at the man that was staring at him in bewilderment. “Why would you do that? You didn’t know-”</p>
<p>“No, I didn’t know it was you until just now.” Dick admitted with an amused smirk. “But I did know that that guy was only doing what he thought he had to. Maggie showed me the report about the ‘Pay-to-Play Club’ and while I’m not thrilled with being kidnapped and locked in a trunk, I get why he did it. Then the bastard had to go and save my life two more times and, well, I sort of felt like I owed him.”</p>
<p>“Well, fuck!” Jason exclaimed, his eyes finding the spot Dick had been staring at and locking on to it himself. “I think I need a minute to process that. Huh, not that long. I am, unsurprisingly, okay with that. Now I just really want to drag you up to the penthouse and spend all night fucking.”</p>
<p>Dick laughed heartily and reached up with his uninjured arm, grabbed onto the sleeve of Jason’s jacket, and pulled him down. Jason caught himself with one hand on the concrete next to Dick’s head and their faces were barely an inch apart. They both moved to close the distance. Their mouths slatted together perfectly, their tongues tangling and pulsing against one another. Dick felt his body arch into the feel of Jason’s free hand coming to rest against his hip and he fisted his hand tighter in the fabric of the jacket. His other hand reached up instinctively, and he allowed his fingers to weave through the satiny strands of dark hair.</p>
<p>A breathless mewl of frustration escaped him when Jason pulled away several long seconds later. He let his forehead rest against Dick’s as they both breathed heavily. “Are you good with all this?”</p>
<p>Dick peppered a light kiss to the corner of Jason’s mouth. “There will be conversations to be had, apologies to be heard, and decisions to be made. But what I’ve been feeling for you is not something I’m willing to ignore just because I’ve learned exactly who your father is and what you like to do in your spare time.”</p>
<p>“Talking. I can do that.” Jason lifted his head to gaze down at Dick with a playfully worried expression on his face. “But tomorrow, right? Because, you know…”</p>
<p>“Fucking.” Dick tightened the fingers wrapped in Jason’s hair and pulled their faces together, murmuring against the other man’s lips. “Lots of fucking.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The companion piece to this is posted as the next work in the series. Each chapter here will have a corresponding chapter there.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The companion piece to this is posted as the next work in the series.  Each chapter here will have a corresponding chapter there.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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